By Jalina Suggs
Dew slips down the blade of green dampening the earth
while a fire kindles on the horizon.
You glide across the kitchen floor,
Peep in the fridge and snatch the bundle of grapes.
One by one, you empty the vine.
Melodies sneak in from the stain-glass window.
The blue jay, cardinal and robin provide some ragtime.
You inch towards your mother’s room,
knowing that by now she would have buttered the
toast and poured orange juice in your princess cup.
The dog tilts its head up as the door prods open and
the sun filters in between the lines.
You witness her peaceful as ever, her head
slightly visible under a cloud of linen.
Step by step, you embrace serenity.
The cloud tangles and morphs as
a pillow crumples and tumbles to the floor.
You snuggle up beside her,
wrapping every inch of yourself around her.
You wait for the turn, the kiss on the forehead and the whispered
Her body felt like ice.
The greetings did not come.
The morning slithered away as
the air in the room thickened.
Now, Scotch and Brandy singe nose hairs.
Smoke shrouds the faces of visitors.
You fixate on the neon,
open your eyes wide and let
it burn its brand into your retina.
Ice cubes clunk together just as
the Billiard balls collide with one another.
You fiddle with the bill in your hand,
knowing by now that your mother would
have taken you in her grasp and held you tight.
Tears dilute the glass of Hennessy.
The stool shakes under the pressure.
Now, you bring your nights with you.