Tag: Mom

Potatoes – A Quadrille

I expected to find Mom in the living room, smoking a cigarette and watching TV. Instead, she was in the kitchen peeling potatoes. I paused to watch her pull the paring knife toward her with each peel, like she’d done a thousand times before. _______________________________________...

Her Hideous Scar

Once I saw her without her shirt or bra revealing the scar where her surgeon first took her diseased breast then sloppily gathered excess skin in a quick running stitch of sutures leaving her hideously deformed It’s no wonder I seldom saw her smile _______________________ De is running the...

Missing You

It never leaves the pain, the heartache of losing one so dear Or one who should have been dear but for youth and shame that kept me from truly knowing and being known by you I hid so much from you I didn’t let you...

Twenty-Four Years – A Poem

January 3, 1988 is the day my mom died. It’s been 24 years today. At the dVerse Poets Pub today, Brian says there is a poem in everything. Perhaps there is a poem in this. Twenty-Four Years We knew it was coming the diagnosis was...