Mother's Waiting

Mother was agitated all morning;
awaited my return.
She spilled salt and pepper on table
and served egg on a cloud for lunch.

Coffee savored the table,
spoons jingled on the ground,
apple pie tasted like mutton -
titillated Butcher's mound.

Fats Waller beamed from the album cover;
mother silenced him with a wink.
My father signaled: disappear;
she definitely stopped to think.

Lee Wiley looped in her head:
"Once in a while, will you give just
one little thought to me...";
she cleared snow off driveway -
weaved a shoveled tapestry.

Bare boughs of winter trees
imitated her arms spread wide.
She rehearsed embraces and squeezes,
clinging on her tethered pride.

Then...
From a distance, flashed red and white;
her heart skipped a beat.
She felt this could be the end -
her joy beating the retreat.

The clergyman stepped out,
heralding my return.
Mother tempestuously broke down
to mourn my end.