for my Mother
I went to the pit
to bury my dead
on an empty day
of stark branches.
I kept ducking.
With no clear
view of enemies
lurking / hovering
over the burial site:
A hole with weeds
and rocks
blowing paper scraps.
No conclusions
for this bed.
Though she would
understand
throwing up kisses
grateful
I took the time.
I went to the pit
to bury my dead
on an empty day
of stark branches.
I kept ducking.
With no clear
view of enemies
lurking / hovering
over the burial site:
A hole with weeds
and rocks
blowing paper scraps.
No conclusions
for this bed.
Though she would
understand
throwing up kisses
grateful
I took the time.
Susan Tepper is the author of nine published books of fiction and poetry. Her most recent titles are CONFESS (poetry published by Cervena Barva Press, 2020) and the road novel WHAT DRIVES MEN (Wilderness House Press, 2019). Tepper has received many honors and awards. She’s a native ) New Yorker. www.susantepper.com
John Patrick Robbins, I cannot thank you enough for posting this poem on what would have been my Mother's birthday.
ReplyDelete