Tagged: mom

art is life is art –

art is life is art –
mom’s gladiolus in the
dining room, drying

and curling, subjected to a
child’s science experiment
.
20210519:2034
y

the robin who made

the robin who made
her nest in dad’s hibiscus
syriacus caught

a whiff of clean laundry airing
on mama’s clothesline, moved north
.
20210511:2113
y

every year, dad prunes

every year, dad prunes
mama’s azalea bushes
carefully so that

they become perfectly rounded
buns well before mother’s day
.
20210509:2100
y

in the dream after

in the dream after
the dream that is just before
waking, bamboo soup,

the way mom cooks it at home,
a memory for the journey
.
20210506:2143
y

every three-point-two

every three-point-two
flights, we remember to ask
mom to prepare some

freshly cut apple pear slices
to soothe whatever the journey
.
20210129:1943
y

curry is the first

curry is the first
recipe you need to take
away with you to

college – forget ramen, mac
and cheese, bring the potatoes
.
20201222:1046
y

mom and dad shuttle

mom and dad shuttle
the loom back and forth across the
fabric of our youth,

adolescence, adulthood – a
selvage against unravelings
.
20201215:1922
y

a sandwich bag with

a sandwich bag with
freshly peeled and sliced apple
pears
 tucked into my

travel bag requires no note
to show mama’s enduring love
.
20201112:1903
y

our mom’s azaleas

our mom’s azaleas
unfurl with
tricks up her
sleeves,
neverminding
the gardener’s
schemes
.
20200910:1934
y

we are bringing wok-

we are bringing wok-
roasted peanuts
back – from grandma’s
kitchen to mom’s to

mine, each with her own fire and
flair, with more than a grain of salt
.
20200818:1555
y