A Poem for Mom

Found this hidden under my socks at the bottom of the drawer; I must have written it over a year ago and tucked it away, like a chipmunk.

That is to say, like a chipmunk would have tucked a poem away if chipmunks wrote poetry and wore socks. I don't mean to imply that I normally store rodents in my lingerie. (Though you never know - I am a very strange woman!)

Maybe I should have left it there; on the other hand, if you can't compare a blog to the bottom of your sock drawer, what can you compare it to?

When you died I was angry at the weather
Early summer, vibrant sky
Trees in freshly verdant leaves
Day, after day, after day went by
Smiling brightly at the empty space
Where you were not. I wanted rain
Heavy clouds, and gray
Thunder growling at the world
How could it all go on the same
As if nothing major had happened
As if your death were only a part
Of an eternal cycle
that will one day claim us all