I am now an occupational therapist. I grew up in a Catholic family in Illinois and now live in very Catholic south Louisiana. This is a poem about my mother who was a strong woman and probably the best Catholic I have ever known. My faith is a little harder to set into a frame but is guided by hers. edrpoet.com
Somehow, January 19, 2017
Well mom, this woman and I have been
hip to hip in the same bed for a decade -
since we hauled: her two cats, forty-seven
potted plants and a ten foot Australian fern
over here. Had to slow drive that fern
down back streets, cocked-up, wagging,
wind-wrenched for four miles out the
open trunk of my black Mitsubishi.
She brought all of it - jewelry, photos,
a red couch, dresses, a slew of shoes on one
of those winter days where clouds go steel.
It was seventeen months after Katrina sent
six hundred thousand Louisiana lives into
an entanglement of hell but left us unscathed.
I think you’d want to know and probably do
already, anyway or else you never can and I’m just
blowing air, that your youngest, the one that never
could handle marriage despite more attempts than most
has something other than a pillow to nestle at night.
Counts myself among the lucky. Stays well nourished
by what she stirs. Doesn’t get lonely yet can still sit
solitary when it hits me in my back yard that you never
got to visit though it seems somehow you do.
© 2017 Ed Ruzicka
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