I moved to Chicago to help the poor,
and forgot my poor mother back home.
She called one afternoon as I was
walking past a fence of sunflowers.
“Grandma’s had a stroke,” is all she
said, and the sunflowers all died.
I cried, as anyone should have, upon
hearing such news, my mother sang
“Now, now.” Or maybe she didn’t.
Maybe she just hung up the phone and
made dinner. I climbed onto the city bus,
I remembered I didn’t know anyone
anymore. Not even my grandmother,
sick in a hospital bed. Not even my
brother getting married in August,
or my father planning his retirement.
Not even my students who could barely
speak English or draw. Not even me.
I laid down two hours later, and this
sick old lady called and asked if I was
ever coming home. I said "no,
I don't know where that is."
and forgot my poor mother back home.
She called one afternoon as I was
walking past a fence of sunflowers.
“Grandma’s had a stroke,” is all she
said, and the sunflowers all died.
I cried, as anyone should have, upon
hearing such news, my mother sang
“Now, now.” Or maybe she didn’t.
Maybe she just hung up the phone and
made dinner. I climbed onto the city bus,
I remembered I didn’t know anyone
anymore. Not even my grandmother,
sick in a hospital bed. Not even my
brother getting married in August,
or my father planning his retirement.
Not even my students who could barely
speak English or draw. Not even me.
I laid down two hours later, and this
sick old lady called and asked if I was
ever coming home. I said "no,
I don't know where that is."
