Yesterday, my aunt Jean and cousin Bucky and I brought
flowers to the graves of family members. Although their earthly remains are at
their grave sites, we know that they themselves are no longer
there. So where are they, and what are they doing? Some possibilities are
explored in the following poem.
Outsourcing
They all prayed my father would rest in peace
whereas he I’m quite certain was much
relieved to discover a long list of chores awaiting
a watchmaker’s skills in the heavens
Spinning galaxies
wobbling off axis
spewing
s t a r d u s t
were long overdue
for synchronization
And angels were in need of precise adjustments
to
maintain their hairspring balance
on
the head
of a
pin
Meanwhile, my mother
was awarded a route filling
neglected hummingbird
feeders
with ruby nectar
My friend Joan
assists overtasked bees
in pollinating the
almond trees
My grandmothers ensure that pies
don’t bubble over in the oven
And when my time comes
I’ll be the one who makes your
book of poetry open to
j u s t
the right
page
This made me cry. I am not a poet but I am certain that my father is singing and leading some choir in heaven for everyone's enjoyment. But in between my Mom and Dad are waltzing on the clouds. Dad liked to teach people to do the old dances like the fox trot. In between dancing and I'm sure Dad is challenging everyone to game of chess. And Mom and Gram are cooking the good old Polish dishes for everyone
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