Mom does the Dishes

Memories float around my head
like the soft snow flakes outside –
making their way down to the ground
only showing themselves briefly.
One of them stopped just long enough
for me to recognize its significance,
the scene was my childhood kitchen
the people, my mother in her dress doing dishes.
She stopped just long enough to pose:
flashing her smile that melted my heart
and twinkling her hazel eyes with love,
she never stopped loading the dishwasher.
This memory flashes from time to time
because I still have the picture,
and like a snowflake that floats to the ground
is a constant reminder of her joy which from time to time would flicker.

About leewaggoner

Father, educator, musician, cyclist, writer, and avid reader. I love all things about life and love observing but especially writing about them.
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2 Responses to Mom does the Dishes

  1. jillys2016 says:

    Beautiful poem, Lee! That closing line leaves the reader with more questions than answers – I like that in art!

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