I Miss You, Now, Ma

Watering the plants
I substitute for rainfall
And then step outdoors.

Was ninety-five years
When you first came to this earth;
I miss you, now, Ma.

 

 Alfred licks mama;
She stands, patient, enjoying--
A dutiful son.

Soft floating white flecks,
Some sailing across the road;
Some hiding in trees.

Distant train whistles;
Their rumbles far far away.
The snow keeps falling.

By slender branches
Broken limbs are suspended,
Almost tenderly.

Scattered logs and brush--
Dead trees strewn over the hill;
Mayhem on mountain.

I've never seen it--
This school bus turning ahead.
(It's never turned mine).