Letter to Mom

(a narrative poem)

Dear Mom,

The weather in South Carolina is nice;

the forecast is for 81 degrees

with light rain. It is November 11th;

leaves are gold, red, yellow and green.

Water drips from trees,

birds call from the woods in the park.

I hear the weather forecast

where you’re at is perfect

and continued perfect for eternity.

You would not like this pandemic thing.

The family couldn’t visit you

and ear pieces on masks

would mess up your perm.

We are isolated from family here;

however, they are safe and happy.

Carol was sick again,

but her COVID test came back negative.

I am walking and lifting weights every day;

I have lost some weight so you can stop

worrying about me getting late onset diabetes.

Sibling Report:

Kathy’s husband’s heart gave up this spring.

She is waiting until after this pandemic is over

to have a ceremony with his ashes.

David had emergency gallbladder surgery

and is doing fine, Brad injured his hand

and had minor surgery. Barb and Janet

and their families are doing well.

Our Kids Report:

Jasmine took up skydiving

when her two boys became adults

and is thinking of moving. Jamal is working

from home and gets to be with his wife and kids.

Because Kenya closed their borders for the pandemic,

Leah and her family had to cancel a two month trip

to visit her husband’s family.

Levin bought a nice house in Pittsburgh;

he and his wife had a baby girl;

he is happy to finally be a dad.

Tell Dad, he should be happy

he left the Grand Old Party in 2008.

The 2020 version is racists, deniers of racism,

Cromwellian religious fanatics

and old guard too stubborn to admit

that the party of Lincoln and Eisenhower

is now the party of Jefferson Davis

and the spoiled spawn of Billy Graham

and trust fund babies.

On a good note, tell Dad that it is mid-November

and Purdue Football is still undefeated.

They are 2-0 in a COVID shortened season.

Mom, it is sad, but a large part of this country

only believe in the power of the ballot box,

if it goes their way. White supremacists

are rattling for civil war. We are hopeful

cooler heads will prevail and accept change

being won at the ballot box.

If this devolves into chaos

I could be coming to live with you

sooner than planned.

Mom, I got to go for now; I will

check back, if there is any change.

Love, Al

11-11-20