16/365 : I hate knowing the way this thing's going down

part 1

she kept dolls behind glass cases
porcelain shirley temples

her old cheeks kissed her eyes and she'd smile and say things like
well don't you look so darling today
bending over, petting my youth
just like shirley temple with those golden locks!

she was polite and proper and fed me ham sandwiches on potato bread
and made chocolate pudding from scratch with the skin on top
she was as sweet as her award-winning upside-down cake at the howard county fair
she was as kind as a picnic, red and white checkers, baskets overflowing with love

don't tell me she's addicted to pain killers, now
don't tell me she only eats ice cream, now
don't tell me she lives with both TVs on and cries and moans when they don't work, now
don't tell me she wrote a note, now
don't tell me she told him she'll try harder next time
don't tell me it has to be this hard for someone so sweet to die


part 2

i wore dresses that swirled when i spun on the carpet
she sewed me one with six layers of lace

i drank yoohoo at the wooden kitchen table
and watched the squirrels
and listened to baseball

i was not afraid of her age
of her wrinkles, that were soft with powder
of her smell, that was not bodily or rancid
of her mind, that was not torn by depression

we were both far enough from the edges of birth and death
to feel safe playing life together

she's a sunset now
cloudy and cold
in january