Indulge me.
\nI look at pansy baskets
\nand mourn my mother.
\nThey made her face smile,
\nglowing with the wings
\nof butterflies.
\nEvery morning I see a ship
\non the wall,
\nin its own sea,
\nwhere my father put it,
\nin water the color of deep dawn,
\nof blue coal,
\nits sail filled with white clouds.
\nMy father showed me the world
\nthrough an artist\u2019s eyes.<\/p>\n
On the piano,
\na man and woman
\nlook into the room
\nfrom their photograph,
\nand huddle like children,
\nwatching Mary play.
\nThey have whimsical smiles,
\nas if listening.
\nThe music is for them.
\nMy family and friends
\nlive in this house,
\nall together,
\nin different rooms.
\nWe have not forgotten each other.
\nI am grateful.
\nI am happy.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Indulge me. I look at pansy baskets and mourn my mother. They made her face smile, glowing with the wings of butterflies. Every morning I…<\/p>\n