November 11: Mother

My mother’s legs remind me
When she limps. I see the boat
Upside down as I bob in the current
Slippery wet skin. Fire smell
Fresh water in my mouth, roar
Of the boat engine. I’m calm
I know I’ll survive. Her bouncy
Walk bumps around my house.
The real Lesa is drowned
In a California Lake. We talked
Last week. I thought I saw a glimmer.
Inside I screamed her name.
My house quaked legs shattered
Heart crumbled. She is the overbearing
Stand apart mother of affectation.
When her teeth grind she relaxes.
When Anya is ornery I’m living
Up to my label. Slide closer
To me on the bench of adoration
Slippery mother. Remarried
Her wedding ring makes the burden
Easier, though it glares wearily
In my eyes. I see mom
The flesh of her leg torn open.
I cannot hear her, her smell
Gone, I cannot reach her. I am
Hungry for someone more.