She’s finally coming to me in my dreams.
After a month and a half
I get to see her again
though it’s up to her and my subconscious
how and when she visits me.

Last night she took me through
her childhood home and I saw pictures
I’m not sure were of her
but were so detailed I think
they must have been.

Dolls with china faces and hands,
dresses teased with lace covering their
hard bodies. Dolls made of plastic,
red juicy lips, eyes permanently
painted open with ticklish eyelashes.

Old 1950s furniture I had never seen before,
am I to believe they were hers?
A ring on Gramma’s dresser, an
omniscient narrator saying, “she even kept this.”

Maybe as Mom watches me from “out there”
(where?)
there is an omniscient narrator telling her
what I’m doing and feeling.
And at night, during that thin-veil time of sleep,
we talk to each other directly.
This past December 24th, I heard her say,
“They’ll be better Christmases than this.”

12/29/2006

Posted on 12/29/2006
Copyright © 2024 Lisa Marie Brodsky