11am. Poem 9. 

(Use these words in a poem…
beet, jacket, tremor, bayou, elbow, light bulb, cinnomen, bucket, elk, carport)

On Taking Mom to the ER

Bracing your elbow
in the palm of my hand
we slip your favorite red jacket
over your shoulders.
The tag says
Outer Layer: Beet
Lining: Cinnomen

You like to hear about that
everytime.

Winking up at Dad’s
old elk head on the wall,
you assure Bokie
we’ll be right back.

You like to do that everytime, too.

Your sweet, soft, white hair tremors and shakes
with the rest of you
as I place the blue bucket
on a black floor mat
between your legs,
just in case.

You marvel at the beauty
of sunrise on the bayou,
lookin like the yellow parlor
lightbulbs of your youth,
as we back out of your carport
for the ER.

I won’t tell you it’s 11pm.
I won’t remind you that
you grew up in a two room
share cropper’s stilt house,
other side o’the tracks.
I won’t let you find out
you’ve never been to Louisiana.

.