Slide showing in my brain,
the audio is my heart that sings and moans like a southern gospel choir on a hot Huntsville day
the echoes of harmony wailing out from my chest
No one seems to hear
I stand in line at the grocer, move through stores unnoticed
When I lay in bed we speak, you listen and only the reverberations of energy upon my arms assure me that you hear me.
I can go through a day and not speak to you, but it has not happened that I can go a whole week with all the seconds added up and not think of you
At times, I draw the fear like a pail of water from the well.
Drawing it to me, impending that quench. I draw that I will forget you and never remember the sight of your face. There is no pail of forgetfulness when it reaches me as I bend into my memory.
You hold me; you sit me up and prop me up. You keep me with my shoulders aligned to look as if I am schooled in the etiquette you so longed for us.
You have taken my eyes, they are round and grey with flecks of white lash hiding and jutting out from the creases of the bend.
You place my teeth slowly like an artist render, angles at a crooked bend. Every year a little more bent. A rendition of yourself for the world to see.
In the quiet dark, my heart sings.
In my slideshow mind your images flash like high tech color slides.
At times when the yearning grows great, I see the lines and nooks and crannies of your face.
Those are the black and white days, the days so sure my heart will break and out will pour that songbird you placed into my heart when you broke free and took flight…
the wailing gospel that creates the hearts audio of a long lost love of her mother….