INCONGRUOUS

I wrote this five years ago, just before my mother died.

 

 

INCONGRUOUS

 

My mother keeps falling down;

I can’t find my littlest flashlight.

 

The gray cat is suddenly dead;

I have poison parsnip burns.

 

My mother doesn’t always know where she is;

the moon in its first quarter is tangled in the oak.

 

We’re a month from the Equinox and

the low battery light on my mouse blinks red.

 

My mother doesn’t want to see the doctor.

When I was making supper, I burned the rice.

 

Weeds have spread through the garden bed;

do I still believe in god?

 

My mother didn’t recognize me this morning;

I took another photo of the setting sun.

 

Mice are picking at the ripening tomatoes and

Jupiter burns through the sky before dawn.

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One comment on “INCONGRUOUS

  1. Mary, this evokes forgotten memories of my own incongruous thoughts and emotions as each of my parents’ illnesses progressed. You’ve crafted a superb, gentle, even forgiving, message for all caregivers. Thank you!

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