Hjackson
March 18th, 2015, 09:15 PM
Just a poem I wrote about my momma who died in a car accident last year:
I Think of Her
One second she’s here,
And the next
Not.
I remember her
Smile.
Her jokes.
Her laugh.
And I miss her
Every
Single
Day.
Some days
I can’t see her face.
I can’t hear her voice.
I can’t picture
What she would be doing
Right now.
And others,
It’s like she’s right
Where she always is.
In that
Worn out
Filthy
Blue chair,
Reading her book,
Watching the
6:00 news,
Or just resting
From a long day at work.
“Just one more minute,”
She says.
“Then I’ll get up,”
She says.
When it’s hard,
I just try to remember
That she’s still around.
Watching over me
From her new home
Way up above.
Waiting for me.
And I can still see her
Every now and again.
When I crawl under the covers
And close my eyes
And slowly drift off
To sleep,
She’s always waiting.
I get to see her,
Find out how she’s doing,
Hear her stories
Of her long-lost friends,
Her great-great-great-aunt
She’d never met before,
What she’d talked about
With God that day.
And I see her smile
And hear her laugh.
I see her in the water,
In the clouds,
In the grass.
But especially
In that big
Old
Maple tree.
I start climbing,
Higher and higher
Until the branches
Bend beneath me
And I clutch to the trunk
As the warm
Summer breeze
Tosses my hair,
The sunshine
Warms my face,
And I watch
The clouds painting
Pictures
In the sky.
I’m happy.
But then I see
The leaves start to change.
They dry out,
Fall off,
Crunch beneath
The feet
Of unknowing passerby’s.
The wind doesn’t feel
So warm
Anymore.
And then
The cold comes.
I hold as tight
As I can
As the limbs get slippery,
Crusting with
Ice.
I close my eyes,
Waiting for it to be
Over.
Wanting nothing more
Than for it to end.
Then, all of a sudden,
It’s calm.
I peek out
From beneath my eyelashes
And see the sunshine again.
And a bud grows
Right before my eyes.
Then millions more,
First tiny and red,
Then bursting out
And becoming
Full grown leaves.
And I know
It’s her. She’s back.
She’s reminding me
That even though
It’s hard sometimes,
It gets better.
The ice melts,
The trees come alive again,
And life continues.
I Think of Her
One second she’s here,
And the next
Not.
I remember her
Smile.
Her jokes.
Her laugh.
And I miss her
Every
Single
Day.
Some days
I can’t see her face.
I can’t hear her voice.
I can’t picture
What she would be doing
Right now.
And others,
It’s like she’s right
Where she always is.
In that
Worn out
Filthy
Blue chair,
Reading her book,
Watching the
6:00 news,
Or just resting
From a long day at work.
“Just one more minute,”
She says.
“Then I’ll get up,”
She says.
When it’s hard,
I just try to remember
That she’s still around.
Watching over me
From her new home
Way up above.
Waiting for me.
And I can still see her
Every now and again.
When I crawl under the covers
And close my eyes
And slowly drift off
To sleep,
She’s always waiting.
I get to see her,
Find out how she’s doing,
Hear her stories
Of her long-lost friends,
Her great-great-great-aunt
She’d never met before,
What she’d talked about
With God that day.
And I see her smile
And hear her laugh.
I see her in the water,
In the clouds,
In the grass.
But especially
In that big
Old
Maple tree.
I start climbing,
Higher and higher
Until the branches
Bend beneath me
And I clutch to the trunk
As the warm
Summer breeze
Tosses my hair,
The sunshine
Warms my face,
And I watch
The clouds painting
Pictures
In the sky.
I’m happy.
But then I see
The leaves start to change.
They dry out,
Fall off,
Crunch beneath
The feet
Of unknowing passerby’s.
The wind doesn’t feel
So warm
Anymore.
And then
The cold comes.
I hold as tight
As I can
As the limbs get slippery,
Crusting with
Ice.
I close my eyes,
Waiting for it to be
Over.
Wanting nothing more
Than for it to end.
Then, all of a sudden,
It’s calm.
I peek out
From beneath my eyelashes
And see the sunshine again.
And a bud grows
Right before my eyes.
Then millions more,
First tiny and red,
Then bursting out
And becoming
Full grown leaves.
And I know
It’s her. She’s back.
She’s reminding me
That even though
It’s hard sometimes,
It gets better.
The ice melts,
The trees come alive again,
And life continues.