Quote:
"We are all like fireworks: we climb, we shine and always go our separate ways and become further apart. But even when that time comes, let's not disappear like a firework and continue to shine.. forever."
~ Hitsugaya Toshiro (Bleach)
Poems:
Return
BY MAXINE SCATES
I was reading about faith. The author
said we return to what we believed in when
we were young, but I can say with certainty I did
not believe in a god, maybe gods though—
the ones I found in the Edith Hamilton Mythology
my mother gave me when I was a kid. As for
return, the word says something about time
I don't understand unless it's the way I stood
at the kitchen sink washing dishes and staring
at my mother's collection of birds and one
brass giraffe she bought at the zoo. I wondered,
if I put away all the things she wanted me
to remember her by would I keep remembering?
Then I recalled that after she retired she loved
going to the zoo, and how one day I went
with her and we sat on a bench and she reached
into her straw bag and gave me a sandwich
and an apple. When I was a kid, there was never
enough time for just sitting on a bench, eucalyptus
rustling overhead, eating our lunch—she was too
busy just getting by. But on that bench it seemed
we could return to what we never had and have it
as we did one day in the hospital last winter
while we waited hours for a doctor to come and talk
about hospice. Then, nothing hurried, and, as if
we were on that bench again, my mother, growing
weightless, tiny, as her time was ending, told me
how, for a quarter, she'd flown high above
Long Beach in a two-seat plane eighty years before,
and how one day she'd gone to a mortuary
with a friend who worked there because she wanted
to see a body and did and found she was not afraid
of what she saw, and, though I've often thought
she told the same stories over and over, I'd never
heard either of these. We talked on and on,
and when I thought to thank her for the Mythology,
she asked why I liked the Greeks, and by now
I know it is because they never die, but live
unknown among us. She was quiet then, so
I asked if there was anything she wanted to know
about what was coming, and she said,
Yes, when will I die? She knew I couldn't answer,
but I told her again there were ways of making dying
easier, ways to prepare, and when the doctor
did come she listened, and signed the papers
though in the end I don't know that it was easier,
just a kind of map to follow what can't be followed
until, as I imagined it, she stepped off a cliff, the way
we do in dream, but this time she kept on falling.