Tagged: maternal

my six aunts and

my six aunts and
uncle gather around
grandma’s hospital
bed, allowing
the performance of
procedure to overtake the
art of living.
Their hands
are collectively
tied in the pursuit
of individual

grandma looks
on, one against
six, a tube down
her throat, mindful
of cumulative losses.

as in every
situation, time
flexes its
muscles, taunting us
to hold on or let go
while duty,
devotion, and rivalry
measure us for both


even this morning,

even this morning,
i am hearing for the first
time the tale of grandpa,
bringing home
a pot of Madagascar
periwinkle, and how
his business thrived
for as long as the
garden blossomed
and his seven
buds bloomed