In a rush this weekday morning, I tap the horn as I speed past the cemetery where my parents are buried side by side beneath a slab of smooth granite. Then, all day, I think of him rising up to give me that look of knowing disapproval while my mother calmly tells him to lie back down. Copyright © 2000 by The Modern Poetry Association. This poem appears in the December 2000 issue of @3Poetry@1 Magazine. http://www.poetrymagazine.ord | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LONDON'S SUMMER MORNING by MARY DARBY ROBINSON LET US REASON TOGETHER by LEVI BISHOP JAMES BARR AMES by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE HYMN OF THE WALDENSES by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT THREE EPISTLES TO G. LLOYD ON A PASSAGE FROM HOMER'S ILIAD: 3 by JOHN BYROM TOWARDS DEMOCRACY: PART 3. AH! BLESSED IS HE by EDWARD CARPENTER |