Finally Dawns
 
Mother-in-law.   
Daughter-in-law.
Never quite coming to terms with
the terms.  Two of us could not have
been more different.  Worlds of words
apart, we pecked and hoped the spider-
thin thread held for the sake of your boy,
my  man.  Long at rest in what you saw
as a Better Place,  I miss you more each day
that passes.   Who does not have a dark side?
How did I not realize all you had to teach?
Jaundiced as I was -- spelled idiot -- I picked
up a few lessons you offered without charge.
Not that "men are nasty" or "men aren't
made to cook and clean," but that "flowers
aren't hard if you don't overwater and bring
them in at the first sign of frost."   Always
seemed to know if one needed to be brought
in or left to nature.  So much else.  Like  love
of outlandish discount yarn and an ability
to undo knots can get a body through a lot.
Like  saying "earbobs" "dribs 'n' drabs,"
and proudly  pronouncing your son "a
"ar-chiktek" are  leaps and bounds above
the  multisyllabic parrotings of snobs
educated beyond their capacity to understand.
You who taught me that raring back on
a sideporch  snapping "budda" beans  and
shelling sweet peas can help a drinker not
want.   Snaps and plinks are the perfect
accompaniment to  rockers' and ladderbacks'
creaks,  the hoot of a barn owl, and the hum
of a sultry, lilac-drenched evenin'.  Add fire-
flies,  odd sneaked fart, and the tinkle
of fast-melting ice.  Glass sooooo coooool.  
 
As a child, you toted your shoes as mud
sucked at you and your sisses over a mile
to a road  a school bus could  get down.  
Your father did unspeakable things, whispers
let slip.  Hair once fell out.   So you hung onto
money and "kep' shet."  Pinched pennies see-
through, yet said to me, "Never feel bad about
spending on flowers."   Glass case that faced
the front door of your and Pa's patched house
"Finally Dawns" - p.2/2
 
 
 
was stuffed with child-asked-for gewgaws and gim-
cracks.  Most bought in the Ozarks as leaves
were turning.  Carnival glass in the diningroom
yours.  Christmas, birthday, you know.   Apricot
your fave.  Remember you sewing at that antiquated
Singer.    Made your daughter so many dresses,
come time for your church's rummage sale,
couldn't stir 'em with a stick.   Other lessons
profound.   Work hard.  Harder!  Be loyal.  Be
brave.   Keep yourself clean and watch your
tongue.  Sing America with pride.  Sort laundry
by color and use Clorox on the whites.  Use
elbow grease!   Nothing smells better than a sheet
dried outside on a beautiful day.  Family First.  
 Penny saved's a penny earned.  Save paper, save
string, save water.  Everyone sits at table to eat.  
Bow your head.   Whose turn is it to say the
blessing?   Not any kind of cook, your never left
a mouth unfed.   Ready on the dot.  Kept a garden
ringed with marigolds because "bugs hate the smell."
Hmmm.  Guess we read each other, after all.   
Here.  Here's a ball-jar of pansies,  faces
to the sun.  Purple, like you like.
                             Hope you see the heart.                                                  
 
 
                      (c) Phyllis Jean Green,  October, 2009

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