To the Artist's Page                     To our home page

To James Lineberger's previous piece     To James Lineberger's next piece

Your Mother Poem, the One You Said You Lost

I forget what
you said was so special to her
about Grandfather Mountain or why
she would toss yellow roses
from over the edge of the swinging bridge
they used to have up there
was it some relative who died? I don't recall
but I do remember the part where
you would sit under the bench while she played the old pump organ
she got from her own mother
and how beautiful her bare feet seemed to you
dancing over the pedals
and then you, how
you were always leaving at least one tennie
in your cubby
at the playground where thanks
to your mama some goodhearted
person would
usually see the phone number she had printed inside
with the laundry marker
and call up to say they had the thing and were keeping
it for safe keeping till
she could come pick it up except
the one time
that old man with some kind
of foreign accent like he was from across the ocean
called to say if there was a reward
he was sorry but he did not accept checks

To the top of this page