Missy lives in Utah.
© 2006 Missy Lambert
i was resurrected from gray,
he said firmly,
glancing around the dusty room.
i tried not to look at his mother
--i swear i tried, but i have impetuous eyes-
who was laying sideways on the bed,
all forty-eight pounds of her
sunk into the yellowed mattress,
a fraying sack of bones and ancient hopes.
he saw me glance at her. he said:
dad promised he would take her to rio de janeiro;
that they would dance samba on the beach,
eat ice cream, be young.
this beside his mother's limpid form,
her full bedpan on the dirt-packed floor.
i thought i saw something flutter,
like a tiny humming beehive
behind her closed eyelids.
i told them, stubbornly
and in my mind, at such an expression of faith,
she lifted her old bones off the bed
and smiled brilliantly,
suddenly less gaunt.
All work is property of Missy Lambert.
[back to top] [home]
© 2006 SubtleTea Productions All Rights Reserved