It Died in the Autumn of That Year 2014
my kitchen in the casita is small only the smallest refrigerator
will fit the tiny cubby squeezed into the corner it was five years ago
the refrigerator died i was in texas my mom was sick
i was there to be with her in the autumn of that year the monarch butterflies
covered the tree in the front yard they drained the last blossoms energy for the last leg
of their trip home to mexico most days were sunny the sky blue-gray
the color of my mom’s eyes i was there six weeks a tender time
the last time for my mom her death was peaceful one morning she took three breaths
she did not exhale that was it that was the goodbye
after her death we cleaned her house for the last time the refrigerator, too
strange what ends up there who put it there where did it come from
what was it questions hung in the air no one to answer
a storm had come in when i returned home in the snow my refrigerator was silent
it chilled no more it was also dead it was as if death
followed me home wanted to be my friend was not through with me
there it sat quietly reminding me of where i had been
what had happened my mom had died i would not see her again
sears would replace the refrigerator but could not replace my mom
October 10, 2017
10 comments:
There just are no words to comment here...but I will try. This is absolutely a stunning post. As a reader, I am quickly engulfed in being with you. I watch as you watch. I grieve as you grieve. I wonder as you wonder....death following you home. An inanimate object that holds meaning it will not share...remnants when the owner has died. One refrigerator cleaned, left ownerless, alone. Another, across the country, died at a similar time. One can be replaced, the other not. And certainly your mother...her last three breaths, the monarchs, the autumn of that year. This is truly stunning.
This is absolutely the best I have ever read from you... a great poem, a true story of those parallel deaths. And then that final line. Really a great piece of writing.
I had to catch my breath, Annell. This is so touching. My mum died last January and it was difficult to read your words the first time. I had to go back and read them again. It's strange the things you remember about times of tragedy.
I love the description of the monarch butterflies and the sky the colour of your mum's eyes.
This is so beautifully, quietly sad. I'd never have though white goods had so much delicacy. You mix the mundane with the spiritual so well!
One of my favourites of yours too, Annell. It pulls the reader in, to those last weeks. The irony of your refrigerator at home dying at the same time, the closing lines........a wonderful read! It is such an honour to be at the bedside of the dying, to see them through that final breath. Especially when it is one's mother.
Refrigerators dying are nothing compared to people. I'm surprised we even use the metaphor of death for them breaking. Nice poem and remembrance of your mother.
Wow, there truly are no adequate words. God Bless You! I'm glad you were able to be with her.
Your sentiments are tender and painful still. Love the butterflies...the color of your mother's eyes, the whole poem.:-)
Brilliant, poignant, beautiful. Thanks.
Beautiful moving poem of loss the reflection went straight to my heart
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