Now that you are gone,
I am graduating and my
nightmares bear no resemblance
to the ones you may have consoled
me from in youth.
I am fleeing the tangible and
mundane terror of a bleak and
open future, the specter of
failure moaning in my ears,
the ghost of debt creaking the
floorboards and rattling chains.
I go to spend the night in
your home, hoping the memory
of you may be enough to console
me to sleep-- which only comes
now with a struggle.
I drink tea on your floral couch
and eat a peppermint from the
bowl on the table and my lids
begin to grow heavy, a wash of
sleep calmer than any I’ve known
lately.I climb the stairs of your warm
blue house to the bedroom you
shared with Papa for fifty some
years.
All night the golden anniversary clock
chimes to mock my awakeness, singing
at the hour and the half
you should have known
you should have known
you’d be awake here
and alone.
2 comments:
Perfect imagery, the mood just right...so solitary and immersed in your grandmother's married life.
Post a Comment