Like the Sweetness of Gardenias

Mother, you died years ago.
At first,
I felt shards of pain so deep
I couldn't breathe,
then numbness
so complete
the sun could not break the clouds.

Then there was just stillness
like the sweetness of gardenias
in the crystal vase
on your yellow kitchen table.
fragrant, strong.
Today the tradewinds blow your voice to my ear
reminding...
a pleasant mantra
of tenderness:

magic words that move my palms, your palms,
together we mold, help, create.
your gift, my gift

Now.

In the mirror I see your eyes,
Beautiful brown circles
looking back,  radiant.

"Don't forget me," you whispered
that morning
your heart stopped
forever


I won't forget.

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