Ocean waves of worry batter
my thoughts as I watch midnight
write its journal across my living room.
I can’t find rescue through
a clock that ticks time into
questions without answers.
The sofa speaks comfort
my body rejects as I pace
through rooms collecting memories
as if they were seashells.
Anxious, I run my hand along
the edge of a shelf feeling its smooth edge
until I reach photos of my parents.
Mama smiles from her picture frame
making me think of the sound of her
sewing machine stitching her vision
into cloth that became my school dress.
My father dressed in his WW II Army Air Corps
uniform looks back at me through the glass
with eyes just like mine and I remember stories
he told of war and sacrifice.
Reaching through a starlight rain of tears
I touch the wooden frames with my fingertips
to read the memory of trees that surrounded
my childhood home, see the sky drip blue through green
leaves.
Wiping my eyes, I return to the couch.
The comfort I’d walked away from
still waiting for me.
Comments