Mother Versus Memory
Johanna Zomers
Mother, wearing her pyjamas
inside out, knows the looks they
slide each other, the nods
the stove-side huddles.
Finds the burner knobs
after they leave,
the missing fuses.
candles vanished
into dark drawers.
The calendar is fuzzy
the month argues with her.
doctor appointments in red.
Turn the page. Only what is seen
can happen.
If only the blue and green days
could hold forever: summer
and hens and the cat
going about their own affairs
none of them caring a whit
about a blessed
thing outside of this moment.