Thursday, March 8, 2012

The Funeral

The Funeral

I had a dream about Judy
You've never met her before
and it has been so long
I don't remember her being so pale
I could see the pulsing blue vein
running from her hairline down to her brow
and her frailness struck me as odd
A giggle almost escaped from deep within my throat
which I swallowed quickly

She would sit at the piano,
and I recall her hands, the fingers long,
her vibrato full and strong
She had always been plump,
and I don't believe my memory failed me
I wanted to play that piano
I begged for lessons,
but it was for the best
I took dance instead
I've never known my left hand from my right anyway
and although I have a good ear
I could never learn to read the notes

Sometimes I would spend the night
You were not allowed into her kitchen between meals
To me it was a strange rule
and the thought of not being able to eat
made me all the hungrier
My mother would cut her hair at our house
while we all splashed in the backyard pool
It is always summertime when I think of my childhood
Did I mention that her daughter was my best friend?
I digress...

In my dream we walk together into the church
dipping our fingers into the holy water
and making the sign of the cross
The water drips slowly from my fingers
and I quickly awaken
wiping the sweat from my forehead

Angela Minard 2012©


Nicole said...

Angie, you are such a gifted writer. Your final two stanzas are incredible and really vivid. I can see it all so clearly. Just brilliant.

This poem is beautiful, I love everything about it.