The reading of The Mom Egg Review had a great turn-out. Lots of people and lots of readers. It was such a gorgeous day as well--with sunshine and warmth. My friend Diane and I ate lunch at the little café at the Arts Armory and enjoyed a reading of "Titus Andronicus" from a local theater group called the Dead Actors or something like that. When we first walked in we were a bit taken aback from the reading, but then it was really fun to listen to. Titus is one of those Shakespeare plays I've heard about but never read.
This is the week that my mom died seven years ago. Hard to believe it's been seven years...and it's strange how one year it'll hit me much harder than other years. Well, maybe not that strange.
Anyway, one of my Lascaux poems got published recently and I thought I'd share it here, since it has my mother in it. Sort of.
A Field Guide to Sorrows: The Lascaux Woman
What else with my endless time but the gnarled naming. I dislike this job sometimes so many sorrows in my mouth. Little blue darlings. I burst their skin under my canine teeth. He is so eager with his gifts of habitat of range. Description: Crunch of Eyes Turning Away. Description: just one more Slip on the Slick Ice of Remembering. Description: combination of the Sorrow of Sedum and the Sweet Smell of Damp Grass. Description: His Eyes become Small Sharp Flies.
Footprints from someone else and I was not well-furred for it. The path was silent. What did I think I would find, my dead mother asks me always from the caves of Lascaux she running with the moon-soaked reindeer. I sew my sorrows with needles carved from brittle bones of stars.