National Poetry Month–Mom
I’m confused by my need to apologize for Dad
Who left your ashes for the funeral home to dispose of,
Anyway, they saw fit.
I have no tombstone to address, and
You’re not in the garden where you used to be.
If you were planted in my garden, each sprig and fall
I could sink my hands into you.
Yesterday, as I shopped for bone meal and Rapid Gro
at Franks Nursery and Crafts,
I perused the aisles of annuals and perennials.
You weren’t hiding behind shrubbery wrapped in burlap bags.
Thinking of white crosses on the graves of unknown soldiers, I
Wondered if any cemetery will do. I remember
The pond at the cemetery on Woodward Avenue.
You went to mourn, and I fed the ducks.
As caretaker, I have failed to tend your grave, as I failed
to tend to your life. Watering down Vodka wasn’t
An answer r then, and today as breadcrumbs float on this
Green pond I also realize in your departure
You’ve lightened my load.
~poem copyright Kim Nixon
Posted on April 12, 2009, in Ordinary Day and tagged death poems, guilt poems, mother poems, National Poetry Month, Poems addressing dead parents, poetry by Kim Nixon, Upper Michigan writers, writing by NMU alumni. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.