-after a photograph of Alexus, 2003
I bought that Bohemian wicker chair from an antique shop
called The Queen of Cups, and a vintage shawl – white silk
called The Queen of Cups, and a vintage shawl – white silk
with embroidered flowers and delicate fringe. She loved trinkets,
the glinting brooches, and feather boas. We played dress-up that day,
the glinting brooches, and feather boas. We played dress-up that day,
and she called me Nony, in her halting baby voice: no, no, non, nony.
It was only a month before she passed, the winter fading, skies streaked.
It was only a month before she passed, the winter fading, skies streaked.
How she posed for me! Flowers a nimbus framing her peach-blond fuzz,
her whirling eyes shining and wet, her pudgy hands bouncing with joy.
her whirling eyes shining and wet, her pudgy hands bouncing with joy.
She reveled in violets, a fairytale princess, pretty as Ophelia. She died
before the spring thaw, crocus bulbs edging through melting snow, and later,
before the spring thaw, crocus bulbs edging through melting snow, and later,
when the ground was soft enough, we plodded in sorrow to her graveside,
ringing bells, humming cradlesongs, and garlanding her small, white coffin
ringing bells, humming cradlesongs, and garlanding her small, white coffin
with crow flowers, daisies, and long purples, before lowering her in the ground.
Now, here is her picture preserved in an ornate bisque frame on my desk.
Now, here is her picture preserved in an ornate bisque frame on my desk.
The chair, long-gone, the shawl yellowed, the boa moth-eaten, and I,
a lonely queen. But her eyes, her eyes full of that liquid light, forever.
a lonely queen. But her eyes, her eyes full of that liquid light, forever.
