The Walker

I write poems Because my mother died, Compelled, Like my father Accepts the walker Pressed on him By the aides At the home, who say Get him to try it. His eyesight shrinks Like the end of a Looney Tunes cartoon. The old folks croon He is so popular here With everyone. Like my husband […]

Incantation

I refuse to think of it.    We set up the hospital bed in the living room. I welcome its narrow  whiteness. It makes things simple.   I can hardly dial the phone to summon my children. I suspect I was not a good mother, but   they swirl about me like fireflies. Do I […]