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