a poem about a daughter and her father and her mother xo
She slides out of bed like soft butter steps into the kitchen to make coffee.
All is still immobile, even the bird in his guilded cage unstirs the air.
From the corner of her eye she sees his cordoroy pants then feels his
presence. A familiar essence lingers. She is conversing with her dead
father in the confinement of her solitary kitchen. "Dad, I don't know
why she is still here? Why does God keep her here to suffer ? Her
memory is getting really bad. Soon she will forget how to eat how to
talk, how to remember us? Why isn't God delivering her from this
confusing world? Dad?"
He paces the vinyl back and forth creating a soft breeze in the pockets
of an unusual warm September . "It would take a strong wind to bring her
to her knees daughter. Your mother was always head strong. "
He takes a raw egg from the counter kicks a hole in it and drinks the yolk.
"We can't play God* Vienna? " "Tutto e buono (all is good)"
His eyes are so benign that you could drown in their kindness and never know
you hit rock bottom. She sits and looks out the window. The sky is opening.
The phone rings. " Bonjours, qu'est-ce que tu fais de bons?"
she cradles the moment in silence, it's a one sided conversation. So it's not
today (sigh) then she hangs up the phone and finishes the coffee. The bird is
malting in his guilded cage, not a sound. It's gonna be another warm September
day. Bottoms up.
SO FAR, IT'S A VERY SAD STORY, BUT THEN LIFE SOMETIMES IS VERY SAD. A YOUNG WOMAN WHOSE FATHER IS DEAD HAS A MOTHER WHO WILL SOON BE DEAD ALSO, IN A MOST HORRIBLE WAY. SHE'S LONELY AND TALKS TO HER DAD WHO IS SO REAL TO HER...HE'S EATING! I'LL BE BACK. WELL DONE, THANKS FOR SHARING. LOVE, BLESSINGS AND FAITH...JOYCE * HIS INSPIRATIONS
This does appear to be a story and not a poem. Whatever it is, the story so far should certainly be continued (maybe the whole thing at once) because it is quite interesting to read.
I especially like sentences like this one: "He paces the vinyl back and forth creating a soft breeze in the pockets of an unusual warm September." This is some of your best writing.
Alzheimer's is a terrible disease because it steals people away from their loved ones as they continue to live and as live goes on. You capture this very well in this poem.
A wicked Cajun Fairy named Robes Pierre entered the impenetrable Magical doll land of Sha Bebe. Queen Faustina, the ruler of the doll land, thought she had destroyed him, but he's back! Will the doll land survive his evil ways?
