September 23, 1919

My mother was born in late September

I like to think the leaves were brilliant

As the sun illuminated them

They might have been green still

The edges just beginning to deepen and curl

But in my mind they’re radiant

Blazing with color

With celebration

This same brother who

 battled with me for control

of the boxy black and white TV

Mickey Mouse Club versus Superman

The same brother who

counted the French fries

on our dinner plates

to be sure he had more

On his last day, a party,

a sheet cake and a giant card

 happy sad notes

 lingering in the air

We talked on the phone

late into the evening

 far gentler now

than either of us could have imagined

 Invitation                     

            I doubted this relationship

            and clearly you did too.

            You crept into the closet,

            emerging cautiously.

            We studied one another.

Your green eyes glowed with questions.

            With a silent invitation

            I offered my hand.

            You considered,

            then accepted,

            eased your silky black head

            into the curve of my palm

            and it fit perfectly.

copyright Janice Ewing

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