Crying In the Orient

I wept in the cool Japanese night.
News of demise had reached me
via electronic means and I could
not handle what had been said.

The sad evening sky hugged my
vast memories of the past and licked
my salty tears away with her wind.
I was alone again, peacefully grieving.

Goodbye isn’t the word, so long
doesn’t fit either; a matriarch lost
never again to be heard or seen.

I was her understudy; I am unfinished.
Orion pointed at me from above
the dippers (both large and small)
hung lower than usual—half mast
sweetly whispering, “Sorry.”

A better place. Is there such?
I scoff at these clichés of death
and warn loved ones not to repeat
these worn lines of helplessness.
I wept in the cool Japanese night.
My mind unraveled and spilled
across the porch, onto the lawn;
I could not handle what had been said.

**

Forever Sunset

Long shadows run across the lawn
like children on Sunday after church.
This candle has burned down the wick,
light fading fast never to return; flickering
a last dance to heavy notes and long sighs.

Spiraling smoke signals an ending.
Flattened, cold wax clinging to the table;
dead weight waiting to be scooped away.
Tarnished silver calls yesteryear, bids today farewell.
Forever sunset darkened spirit; resting soul.

**

Grammar

Mama said we couldn’t buy nothin’
that wasn’t edible, so I asked if we could
buy somethin’ that was edible since that’s
how you translate her sentence
in proper grammar.

My face felt hot with her slap and
she asked, “how do you say ouch in proper
grammar, smartass?” I kept quiet and
helped look for some cheaper milk which
hadn’t already passed its expiry date.

I hated ‘stamp season’ when daddy didn’t
have any work and we had lots of pinto beans
and taters and hard block cheese with everything.
Mama said it’d make us stronger ‘cause it had nutrition,
but nutrition stopped me up for weeks at a time.

To this day, I don’t eat block cheese and I still
don’t correct her grammar; it sounds just fine the
way she says things.