a poet leaves this earth

& soon, my mother follows

a driving rain falls, and falls

post-gathering analysis —

there are definite

chinks in others’ armors

*

I’m not the only one

sporting weakness,

bruises & shameful deficits

the priest incenses the casket

and whatever steely resolve I possessed,

crumbles.

*

at the cemetery,

a light drizzle mists the air.

my son takes his place with the other

pallbearers, grasps a handle

and carries Mom to join Daddy

in the rain-soaked earth.

*

scalloped potatoes & ham, buttered buns.

everyone raves about the green beans,

of all things.

*

tears, hugs, a few photos.

promises to keep in touch.

then, it’s over. done.

families return to their vehicles,

gear up for the long drives home.

*

the following morning,

the sun, she be shining, scattered clouds

in a pale blue sky.

unbearable heat & humidity, again, today.

unpacking and loads of laundry to cycle through.

I eye the backyard, wet with dew.

definitely need to mow tonight.

*

six daughters, now unofficially orphaned.

our new normal begins today.

social media roundup

same old, same old

and so, that’s it…

woven purple placemats —

coneflowers, no longer a match

these once-vivacious colors of summer

now, a hastened fade to October

in a cozy chair, I journal next to a NW window

it’s early morning & the sun hovers, somewhere,

behind a sheath of milky-white clouds

*

stepping briefly outside for what I hope

will be fresh air, I’m stunned at its heavy stillness

*

I’m lost in a good book as darkness descends —

the leaves of our white birch hazard north to south

& rain polka-dots the dusty windows

in advance of the quickening onslaught

*

I continue with my reading,

the furious summer storm

a soothing balm to the internal ravages

Mom’s recent death has unleashed