The Gift

When I finally got there,
it was late, so I said,
it was the traffic, of course,
but really it was
my father
who insisted on
an overly long lunch
so I wouldn’t leave
to see her - he was so
afraid of all
she might say,

my mother,

but she  didn’t mind
I came late
she was in no rush
wanted to talk of
poets, artists, my kids
and that she wasn’t
afraid of dying
which I knew
for she had
stopped eating
and had come to
the hospital
reluctantly

and then she asked
me to unwrap
the gift I brought her,
a baby’s tippee cup
with a straw and 2 handles,
which caused her to laugh
because she knew she was
going back
and she could use it
for the hour or two
before she died.

                           7/9/21

Expectations
It was a day during that quiet time     
between Christmas and New Year
during which one develops expectations.
I put bird food in the feeder and
Sparrows came and governments
of Sweden and Norway sent warnings
to their citizens outlining what to expect
if a war should come.  A Hawk, high
in a neighboring tree, waited patiently
for me to go inside and for the last
Sparrow to rest alone to feast
at the feeder, allowing him to suddenly
swoop down in a graceful arc, talons sharp,
spread open, to  snatch the Sparrow,
carry it to the hedge before our window,
where he plucked it clean
while its little heart beat  
frantically till the hawk killed and ate it.  
                                                                     February.  2025