I broke it
bouncing
a basketball
down the stairs-
a priceless vase
shattered
to brittle bits bare
She yelled, but
didn’t kill me
I was impressed
How’d she do it?
Get us up, feed us,
send us off to school,
hold jobs both in music
and real estate, to boot!
She must have pined
for somewhere mellow
while managing house,
cat, dog, fish, hamsters
and who knows what else of!
respite delayed
for love infused
I never heard a complaint
At least I don’t remember
Only the image of
Platinum Glamor
As I matured
I turned out fine
but pushed her away-
forgetting the pampering
soft forgiving
comforting acceptance
which gave my core
the strength to forge new days,
sputter on my own fumes
But she was there-
fuel beneath the surface
of my confidence
I never heard a complaint
At least I don’t remember
Only the image of
Platinum Glamor
When I faltered
slipped through a crack
a feather cushion caught me
no reproach, just
“You’re back.”
comfort began
exactly where
I had ended it-
always there
bending, new
Now I’m where she
used to be
I’m happy to give back
learning to bend
ready to be her cushion-
yet learning,
still, from
her resilient
spirit burning
barely a complaint
from Platinum Glamor
But sometimes-
my heart-
falters-
when
she gazes
(agelessly)
through fading eyes.
MY MOTHER’S FACE IN AFTERNOON
My Mother’s face in afternoon,
delicate as memory, is
keepsake beautiful,
colors faded,
a Holy book
pressed
inside a rose —
child that I raised,
parent I chose.
A three o’clock Pieta,
this woman draped across her chair is,
as I watch her sleeping there,
all people,
all ages,
a human bouquet,
Eve
and of course
my own death mask.
(C)2004 Timothy Constant
Same poem different poets. Do you find it as interesting as I do?
I like your poem, Tim. I think we use words in similar ways, looking for irony, pattern, spirit, timelessness, in our combinations.
That last stanza ricocheted (I can’t spell tonight) through my insides.
Beautiful, Garnet. I think we all have these feelings regardless of who our mothers were, their roles in our lives changed over and over as we grew and matured, until finally we are able to see all of what they were in a face we love.