A Blessing for My Departed Mom on Mother's Day

A Blessing for My Departed Mom on Mother's Day

Frannie Zellman



Come sit with us, mom.
I made noodle kugel.
Couldn't make it before
because I'd start to cry.
See, the noodles, sour cream,
eggs and raisins
browned in just the right ratio,
and the top is crunchy.
You can have the inside part,
though; it's easier
on your teeth.
I'll warm the chicken
and the sweet and sour stewed
cabbage.

There!
We cleared the seats.
Take the one near the back.
You don't have to get up.
I'll bring you your tea.
The picture of the tiger cub
is back on the wall now.
Dad found the source
of the leak
and fixed it.
Yes, it's pretty quiet
but I will visit
your voice
and play it back.
We will set a special cup
for you
as if you were Elijah,
and I will
open the door.

Join us
again
in a hush
and shiver of air
just the other side
that settles
like the finest sun dust
on the walls.

Flow into all
the small lines
of the tablecloth
and the not as clean floor
and find us happy
in secret

not knowing why.