National Poetry Month

Dear Mom,

I don’t know if there was National Poetry Month back in your day, but April is National Poetry Month now. I decided to write a poem for you—about my last visit with you in the hospital. I don’t claim to be a poet and although I’m studying poetry with another writer friend, I’ll have to admit that I’m not following any kind of rules or style or anything with what I’m about to write for you. I’m guessing this is called free verse, which I think real poets don’t like, maybe. What do I know? Here it goes:

Cherry Popsicle

I imagined the cherry Popsicle
trailing down my chin.
A smile on my face.
My feet dangling, sitting on
the edge of your hospital bed.
Your eyes watching me as I catch
the red drips delicately with my tongue.

I imagined it played that way.

“Do you want a Popsicle?”
I shook my head no.
I stood by your bedside
staring at your mustache
wondering what was wrong with you
not understanding fully, the word

Cancer.

Not knowing,
it would be the last time
I’d see you alive.