Writer's Cramp entry 16Sep20
|It was to be a hot September day
In the house of his mother and father
The blinds were drawn to disguise the decay
Some bags of trash were piled in the corner.
His dad's covered chair sat against the wall
Sudden death took him many years before
His mom was confirmed with cancer last fall
Through her pain, he did his best to succor.
On the porch he found his bike faded blue
The water pump rusted dry in the yard
Rainbows of flowers his mom loved still grew
A landslide of past memories hit hard.
In mom's flower bed he stood where she bent
And combated an emotional swell
He lost the fight when he perceived her scent
Into the flowers, his silent tears fell.
In time and with many tears wiped away
He heard the squirrels, insects, and singing birds
He looked up and saw the sun at midday
He heard his mom's voice which said, without words:
"With your memories and feelings intense
Your tears into flowers bloom on the vine
Inside my dear garden (missing a fence!)
Tears into flowers make heaven's light shine."