i play around the dolmen endlessly slaloming
knobbing hornets adult cousins, sleeping giants back where
squares drag around the gardened corner house
small fostered bodyless polar bear keychain
behind the brothy kitchen window
the final time i
saw the flowers only
what kind of flowers
but sure, i can make something up
she was laying
waiting
along daffodils and winter bells
i am allowed to ruminate on a courageous moment
where i glance through layers of wax polluted with fiberfill
these remains are just as dead as one
who’s been gone for many years already
locked in motionless comfort two pairs of dancing eyes
all traffic has been moved from earthly roads to
quiet waters and the crossing is meant for small rodents now
she has dark shoulder length curls
teeth just like her daughters
we wave every half hour inside the oriel
when the electrical railroad crossing bell rings
the dormer opens her
shutters bumps a can of paint blue welts
along the orange roof tiling
matching a summer blouse camouflaged to be
a cloud with sturdy sewn buttons
still, no butterfly noticed, no parent would mind
---
I wrote this poem as part of the zine of a friend. He
asked me to write anything on The Holy Mother Mary and
choose one keypoint in Marians narrative. I chose 'The
assumption'. My grandmother is called Maria, and so are
my aunt and my sister. This poem is mainly about my
grandmother and the way she lived and died. I was a baby
when she died so this poem is based around hear and say
in our family. My grandfather died years later and they
wanted to be buried in the same grave, but facing each
other since laying in any different way would be weird
in their opinions. My grandmother ran a sewing school
and my younger sister is a great seamstress as well.
In the zine my friend illustrated this poem beautifully
and he is mailing it to me soon. I can't wait to see
it in person.
