The ominous and heavy clouds
concealed the suns warmth
from the frigid march air.
I stood on the edge
of the 6 foot pit
housing the wooden coffin
My best friend,
The few who paid their respects,
floated away like the breeze
Only Lacey, my neighbor and friend, remained
but she stayed beside the elm tree
leaving me to alone with my grief.
and immense hatred for the grim reaper,
who snatched away everyone important to me,
My mother took her last breath when I took my first,
My father took his own life with a deadly bullet,
And now my grandmother took he defeat to the relentless cancer.
Like today I am overwhelmed with same emotions
that flooded my brain ten years ago
when I watched men shovel soil on my father's grave.
I was only five, but I remember everything.
The deep sobs of black-adorned adults
in the fierce Arizona heat absorbing their tears.
And I remember this very feeling I am experiencing now.
I stood alone that day,
No one touched me,
no one comforted me.
until a feeble old woman
fair-skinned with white hair
traversed across the grave yard
and took my small, innocent soul
three thousand miles away
to the southern farm situated in the Appalachian Mountains.
But today I stand alone,
and no loving, self sacrificing woman
can take me away
to a far away land.
I reflect on the day I left behind the desert
But I left behind all the memories I had.
I cannot remember a face from my past,
not even my father's.
I cannot remember who I was
before the day Mawmaw took me away.
Today I reflect on who I am now.
A granddaughter of a German immigrant.
who raised me alone, like she raised my mother.
I had the farm to call my Neverland,
and chickens, goats, and a horse to call me friends.
She always said I was a splitting image of my mother,
except she was blond, green-eyed, ivory skinned
and I was black hair, black eyes, with tanned skin.
But the way I wrote daily in my journal,
and clogged to bluegrass music,
was what reminded her the most of my mother.
But tomorrow I will jet-sail
across the country
to the foreign family,
my father's family,
who disowned me.
For over a decade I never received a phone call
They forgot about my existence
Just as I have forgotten theirs.
But a week prior to my grandmother's last trip to the hospital,
She made a phone call and asked them to take their stand.
Mawmaw had no living relatives,
as far as I am concerned,
Neither do I.
and now it is their turn.
I protested, I fought.
But Mawmaw silenced my rant,
with a trembling voice,
"You will return to Phoenix.
A phoenix is a mythological bird
that burned in the Egypt desert,
but raised from the ashes,
and flew away.
You are the Phoenix."
But can I rise from the ashes
from a past I don't remember
and fly away?