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...ON A MAGAZINE SONNET by RUSSELL HILLARD LOINES SING-SONG; A NURSERY RHYME BOOK: 30 by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI EMBLEMS OF LOVE: 44. TEARS THE SYMPTOM LOVE by PHILIP AYRES THE DEPARTED by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE MEG O' THE MILL by ROBERT BURNS |