A mother wakes

On another given day

She stretches and heads

Into the carpeted hallway

The bathroom light buzzes

She’s been meaning to change

That bulb for awhile

But it stays the same

Like the key on the desk

She’ll never take away

Her sister will be here

And that thought over takes

She clicks out the switch

But she really wants to stay

Between the two doors

And dislike a Monday

She doesn’t and she won’t

She sighs as she prays

The car is too cold

But she doesn’t say

Her sister‘s a sweetheart

And she needs her today

They pass the same roads

To take the weekly byway

Up the steep hilltop

Past planted bouquets

Stones strike the sky

Neat lines break away

To the middle of her heart

At rest everyday

The door slam is hollow

It echoes and plays

Again in the distance

Like the bugles that brayed

She sits on her knees

and bows down to face

The green grass and ground

Her sons simple grave

The gloves are bit big

She wears them anyway

Breaking the soil

A tear slides astray

Her sister is there

Together plugging away

Each flower is gently

Placed and arranged

Standing back she thinks

It might just be staged

Like a show she is watching

Not her child passed away

She stands with her sister

Taking breathes of midday

She kisses her hand

And blows love out his way

It’s time now to go

She’d give anything to stay

As they back out the lane

She sighs and she prays