by Baloney Bill
These are the words I wrote to Mom in her Mother's Day card in 2014.
poking out of the
ground and crocuses
now in bloom, I am reminded
of my childhood. Back then, as
April wound down, my mom would
set up a May altar at our house. She
would move the statue of the Blessed
Virgin from the mantle of the fireplace onto
the chest in the dining room and decorate
that chest with whatever was in bloom. Way
back then, a little boy recorded the gentle
blue of Mary's gown and her cherubic,
blushed face; the bright red and yellow
tulips, the tiny purple lilac flowers;
and the subtle scents filling that
room. This morning, these
memories came back to
me as warm and real as
this morning's sun.
Thank you, Mom.