Our Mother Plays Her Steinway in Her Living Room
It was a crime when Chloe kicked you
out of this room, Mother. She camped here
three years, wouldn’t use your spare bedroom.
As you play Mozart, pale gardens of sleep
rise from your fingers, slivers of wind.
The weather’s blue and white in heaven.
Lasagna’s baking. You’ll bring some to Chloe
at her motel. Maybe, she takes it. Maybe, not.
Why didn’t I...? you ask. At least, she’s not
on the street, I reply. Your Mozart runs through
its adagios, islands that swear to tell the truth.
The darkest blue notes, sharps and flats,
ascend the stairs like sleepy children
who’ve been promised they can stay up late.
About the Author: Richard Widerkehr’s second book of poems, In The Presence Of Absence, recently came out from MoonPath Press; one poem in it was read on Writer’s Almanac, and one was posted on Verse Daily. He earned his M.A. from Columbia University and won two Hopwood first prizes for poetry at the University of Michigan. Tarragon Books published his novel, Sedimental Journey, and Plain View Press published The Way Home. Recent work has appeared in Rattle, Gravel, Arts & Letters, Bellevue Literary Review, and Measure. Other work is forthcoming in Atlanta Review, Evening Street Review, Natural Bridge, and Chiron Review. He reads poems for Shark Reef Review.