I admit I miss my mother advising me –
“Oh son, you must be out of your tricky tree…”
On the fresh sod here at Roselawn,
I’m still asking for guidance but the reply is gone.
Spent fighting years together in my teens,
but we became true friends in my twenties.
I asked her ‘What’s for dinner?’ and over her drink,
she said, “Pig’s ass and cabbage – there now what’d you think?”
Called her dog funny as a crutch
and fed her there by hand later just not as much.
Words live on the wind and in the heart
and even breezy ones can leave a lasting mark.
No justice in the suffering you went through,
but you always told me fair was two weeks
in the summer
off Larpenteur Avenue.
In your bed on your final day
you couldn’t read the clock – heaving last breaths away
Surprised when we told you it was past 1:00
and with a wicked grin and cotton mouth
– I’ll never forget – you said
“Well, time flies when you’re having fun.”
Words live on the wind and in the heart
and even breezy ones can leave a lasting mark.
No justice in the suffering you went through,
but you always told me fair was two weeks
in the summer
off Larpenteur Avenue.
Two weeks in the summer
off Larpenteur Avenue.
Two weeks in the summer
off Larpenteur Avenue.
Two weeks in the summer
off Larpenteur Avenue.
© 2021. For Suzann Siqveland (2/20/43 – 12/17/20)