i have spent all of one old,
distinguished benjamin franklin,
his eyes twinkling that founding light
beneath half-moons,
on books filled with poetry,
all poetry,
all lyrics and songsofthesoul
and i can not wait to lose myself,
forget my body, only words, my mind,
in their pages.
today my mother stood in the bed of our new truck,
dressed in a pink bathrobe,
my old work visor, still needs to be returned,
upside down on her head,
and her seeing cane in one hand,
a bowl filled with holy water in the other.
she poured it on the truck and we intoned its new name.
sunday afternoon car christening whimsy
is when i remember how much i love my mother.
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