Always Remembered

I forgot the name
Of my dad’s great aunt,
The Pasadena cherub
Took him in
From Indiana
When his mother died,
And his father was
Adopted by a new vocation
Called intoxicated despair.

 

I remember
Her rosy cheeks;
The sun and stars
Shining from her eyes;
The cook’s apron she wore;
The postcard kitchen
full of future memories:
Baked chocolate chip
And oatmeal cookies
With plump raisins.

 

When her husband of seventy-five years
Died in the bathroom
After morning coffee
And pigs in a blanket,
He took her stars
And her sun with him
Ushering in a long night
Without light.

 

She followed a year later.
“I knew you wouldn’t leave me behind,”
Were her last words
As she smiled
And joined him.

 

That marriage was
The kind
The rest of us pray for;
Dream of.
“Dear God, bring me someone
that will appreciate me for who I am
that I respect too.”

 

He met her at a dance before WW I,
“That’s the gal I’m going to marry,”
He told his best friend
The first time he saw her
Across the room
Before they danced
One of many.

 

Romeo and Juliet
Wanted it too.

 

It was bliss
before he went
to France to fight.
At Belleau Wood in 1918.

 

I think I’ll call my older
Sister and see if she remembers.

 

Don’t forget.

 

 

 

Author's Note

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Reviews

[Poeticpiers]

I was impressed highly by your writing Sir Poetic prose at its best carrying your story forward to the wondering if your sister remembered it as you do.
Welcome to the cafe you will find an appreciative audience here and a selection of writers of various sorts I am an old fashioned meter and rhyme poet who belives that structured poetry is the best I can enjoy well written works of any sort but some of the modern free form is just brain spillage