Still atop the TV cabinet
his watch alarm goes off
every morning at nine
Mom and me,
that it is past the time
to let go.
is less shrill now
than when I first arrived.
It urges me to forget my anger, grief, dismay
the last years
of his decline
were after all, not mine to relive
but hers, theirs.
Alas, I am still out of the loop.
I am also fully aware of the fact
that I could not be here
if he still were. In fact
most of the time,
I don’t feel sad at all. Like the timepiece, I just need an adjustment.
It makes me think of sand being ripped from the shore
surf crashing against the rocks
oysters without pearls
It reminds me finally
to swallow my medicine, embrace the black corners
and to misplace the watch outside
in his overfilled garage next to the empty bottle of beer.
©10/11/13 Cornelia DeDona