My own mother gone now, buried in my father’s family’s
plot in Maryland, the “last place on earth” she wanted
to be, making me promise her that she would finally
be laid to rest in the new Veterans’ Cemetery. Haunted
by her request each time I see the sign near Summit Ponds
advertising the stoneless yard of the dead, the grounds
keeper riding his mower effortlessly over the bronze
plaques commemorating the forgotten, the lost and found,
I apologize: his authority as your husband took precedence
over your own wishes, unstated in your will. She left me
her diamond engagement ring, which she had bought, saving
as much as she could on a secretary’s salary,
typing eighty words a minute, short-hand symbols waving
across the steno-pad in blue fountain pen ink. Lady Scheaffer,
tortoise shell, circa 1960. I have that too, salvaged from the box
of “junk” my father wanted to get rid of, as though he’d be safer
with all traces of her gone. Out with the high heels, the faux-fox
collared winter coat, her photo albums of cruises she took alone:
waving goodbye from Honolulu, always waving goodbye. The last phone
message I wish I had not erased months before she died: “It’s just your mom.”
Sometimes I dream of her voice telling me it’s okay,
it’s all going to be fine, and don’t wait to say everything you want to say.
Read more poetry by Vanessa Haley at depoetry.com.
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The Delaware Poetry Review, or DePoetry.com, is an online compilation of amazing, contemporary poetry gathered by a group of erudite editors based in the Mid-Atlantic Region. This notable compilation of poetry has been available since 2007, publishing new editions about once a year.
Each edition features a variety of poets chosen by the editors. This blog features our published poets.
More new works from the Mid-Atlantic Region are available at DePoetry.com. For feedback, contact depoet@capegazette.com or go to facebook.com/delawarepoetryreview.
