Poetry Project–Day 2
80th Birthday
We sat, tables put end to end
In the old tavern, namesaked
After the pioneer, and
Full of spoon bread, and stories
Of my mother’s wonderfulness, we
Relaxed in the company of kin.
My husband was gone, his death
Arriving a tad before Christmas, and
Nightmare traces still, even in
Daylight were my company, though
My heart longed for relief, or at least
Respite if just temporarily.
My most precious uncle, approaching
Knelt by my chair, and gazing into
My soul , told me of their next trip
Across the pond, to London and
The English countryside, and would
I come and be reborn?