Walking through the house
that doesn't feel like home;
You've forgotten it,
as well as all your children.
One day you woke up, and
those memories were gone.
You walk the floors and worry,
wishing for cattle and land,
for food, for cash crops.
You just can't understand how
it is today--why we don't need all that.
Your mind is still in the years
of the Great Depression.
So you walk and worry.
I try to explain, tell you
there's nothing to worry about.
I cook, and I tell you when it's
time to eat, and I give you your pills.
I clean the house.
I'm here for you, Mama.
We've got all we need;
We've got each other.
Please don't die, Mama;
You're all I've got.

--September 1994
Copyright © 1994-2024 Brenda S. Parris