Summer of Twelve

SUMMER OF TWELVE

I hear tell we had another presidential election and that
London town hosted the Olympic Games,
But everything is hazy since that was
The summer my mother died.

Four years ago today.

Her traitorous liver transfigured her to a dark yellow
And took our sweet mother away from us.
“At least she didn’t have to suffer long” we said
To comfort ourselves.  To no avail.

Four years ago today.

I used to visit her office and unload my troubles as she
Patiently listened to my busy mind analyze the complexities of life.
I now suspect that she marveled and thought:
How did I make this strange man?  I wish she wouldn’t have left us

Four years ago today.

When she knew she was not long for this world she asked me to say
Words at her funeral.  I didn’t want to, but did, and made a
Blubbering fool of myself.  I’d do it again.  I’d do anything for her.
Even write an impromptu poem remembering what happened

Four years ago today.

– Al Sturgeon, Summer of ‘16

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2 responses to “Summer of Twelve

  1. Crying. Such a sweet and sad and perfect poem, Al. Thank you for sharing it with all of us.

    On Fri, Aug 26, 2016 at 3:18 AM, Starting to Look Up wrote:

    > Al Sturgeon posted: “SUMMER OF TWELVE I hear tell we had another > presidential election and that London town hosted the Olympic Games, But > everything is hazy since that was The summer my mother died. Four years ago > today. Her traitorous liver transfigured her to a dark yell” >

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Thank you so much, Laura.

    Like

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