A Son's Poem

Judy Wilson in Hartford Thanksgiving Day 2007

The Cane

I saw your cane near the door in the umbrella stand

                                                                                         sticking out

reminding me that you were here.

I had not thought of you that day, or for the last week for that matter. 

Is that bad?

Or has life moved on – with and without you?

That cane with the jaguar print was your style statement.

You leaned on it in your last years.

Style.

Where are you mom?

With God? Lord I hope.

With me and us? Yes, still.

Three years have gone by since you left us. You live on still.

In beaches. In noodles. In worry -- mine mostly.  

And when I arrive too early for a departing flight.

I saw your cane.

Do you see me?