
The christmas cactus at mom and dad's house is in full annual fuchsia. Startling colour in a drab season. Yesterday would have been mom's birthday. Thinking I hear her voice coming from the kitchen doesn't bring her back. Imagining her sitting in her chair doesn't put her in it. I go back to my busy life and leave dad to the circling of quiet and empty and returning seasons.
No comments:
Post a Comment