"My mother's gone again as suddenly as ever..." 

____________ 

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Forrest Hamer

Forrest Hamer

A dull sound, varying now and again

And then we began eating corn starch,
chalk chewed wet into sirup.  We pilfered
Argo boxes stored away to stiffen
my white dress shirt, and my cousin
and I played or watched TV, no longer annoyed
by the din of never cooling afternoons.

On the way home from church one fifth Sunday,
shirt outside my pants, my tie clipped on
its wrinkling collar, I found a new small can of snuff,
packed a chunk inside my cheek, and tripped
from the musky sting making my head ache,
giving me shivers knowing my aunt hid cigarettes

in the drawer under her slips,
that drawer the middle one on the left.
 

Grace

This air is flooded with her.  I am a boy again, and my mother
and I lie on wet grass, laughing.  She startles, turns to
marigolds at my side, saying beautiful, and I can see the red
there is in them.

When she would fall into her thoughts, we'd look for what
distracted her from us.

My mother's gone again as suddenly as ever and, seven months
after the funeral, I go dancing.  I am becoming grateful.
Breathing, thinking, marigolds.