Orphan Mother’s Day

I won’t look back and call to her.
She won’t look for me and miss the stone in her step,
break her fall with her glasses, blame-me-not for the
bruise and missing pieces.
Her crown won’t fall off.

Yet.

She is here like nightfall falling
all around.
So sure sometimes
I forget to notice.

I don’t forget she let me go on ahead except in
certain circumstances.

This season my gift is letting her go

noticing, grateful we got to walk together,

in this certain
darker night
fall
she went on ahead.

I’m pleased through the pain the
ethereal path has
smoother stones.

I never knew a tenderloin could make me cry

(a tribute to Frogs because it’s not easy being Green)

no one thought to warn me about  a tenderloin.

it could have been the onions?

maybe it was the memory

of how We’d get one for Two

And talk about how big and wonder

how We could ever manage it all

and then admire Our teamwork

upon completion.

on this day

left alone  (except in spirit)

to do it by myself–

it could have been the onions

causing my throat to close causing

my nose, my eyes, my mind

to run sense no one

ever warned me about  a tenderloin–

I remembered

no one ever told Me except

YOU.