Nancy L. Meek

THE VISIT

While digging in the garden,
Pulling weeds from blackened sand,
Tugging on the last stubborn one,
I saw my mother’s hand.

The sun was beating down on me.
Thank God, I’m through for now.
Stopping to grab my shirttail,
I wiped my mother’s brow.

Weeding done and wanting now
An ice-filled glass of coke,
I plodded back up to the house,
Thinking, “Yard work is a joke!”

While heading for the ice-box
Retrieving my drink of choice,
Mumbling ‘bout the empty ice bin,
I heard my mother’s voice.

Deciding to take a shower,
I started down the hall
And reaching into the bathroom,
Flipped the light switch on the wall.

Knowing I must look a mess,
Preparing for the surprise,
When looking in the mirror,
I saw my mother’s eyes.

Seeing her look back at me,
I stared for quite awhile
Embracing her silent image…
Then I saw my mother smile.