poetry, v. 2 n. 12, December 2000, © 2000 by Mark Schubauer

Carolyn's Mom

“Hey Betts! Do you remember?”
Her fragile synapses fired clear shots
across the decades. She remembered
a shared moment from childhood.
Quotidian briefly spectacular
fireworks from frequent reminiscence.
Who cares that she’s clueless she
Don’t know the season or today’s date?

Chronology jettisoned for bliss
fed by the warmth of eternal embers
love radiating from their hearts:
her brother who could no longer be dismissed
and her daughter who told this tale
that moved me to exquisite tears
crying gratitude for a glimpse through the thin veil.

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