My aging hands hold this ancient soil crusted spade,
wood handle now faded, once painted bright yellow so you
could find it in the sea of resplendent greenery and dappled shade
You gripped it Mother, with the same graceful hands
that comforted me as a child and wiped away my tears,
as you painted monkey blood on my skinned knees
and took away the sting, always there to ease my fears
When I lose the spade in the garden as you once did
I often wonder, when my time on earth comes to an end
should I wear a golden daffodil dress so you can find me
in the vast sea of wandering souls who’ve moved on?
©2019 Linda Lee Lyberg
Author’s Note: My mother always called mercurochrome ‘monkey blood’ when I was small.
Linked to dVerse Poets Pub OLN # 244