HOME, THE LAST TIME

There was always something to be fixed
at your mother’s house— she gave you a
list each time you came home from college.
If you wavered, she would get angry,
do it herself—washing windows on
a beat-up ladder or smashing nails
into a loose chair leg. The leg still
rickety, nails twisted, bent around
the wood spindle like a spider’s legs.
You’d catch your socks on them, ripping holes—
more work for her, darning and sewing.

Every summer, there was the car
to be washed, the lawn that needed
mowing, the light fixtures to be cleaned,
littered with papery moths and cobwebs.
But when she’s lying in a tall bed
on the 10th floor of the hospital,
in the quiet wing no one leaves alive,
the doctor tells you it’s a matter
of days. He stands in a doorway
and says you should clean
your emotions out, you need to say
whatever it is you have to say
to her. You leave,
walk across the parking lot, imagine
a hand dusting, polishing your fear
of being called lazy or forgetful,
your resentment at the few times you
were unnoticed or undoted upon.

Every day, in the pink Hospice room
you wash her hands and face, then you feed her.
Today, there’s chicken soup and crackers,
which she chews deliberately,
stopping every few seconds to rest.
When she’s done, you push the tray away.
Before you’re ready, she has something
to say, she knows exactly what words
to use, but waits for the strength to speak.
As usual, she’s gone ahead, not
willing to wait, while you lean passive
against the bed. Clear, rare elements
have collapsed veins, bruised her hands,
they’ve taken away her thick black hair,
but they haven’t freed her.
You wait until she’s done, then you
hold out a tiny red milk carton
for her, let her reach for the straw,
lips pursed, eyes down, watching the white
climb toward her lips.

In a week, you’ll have no more repairs
to make, no floors to sweep clean.
Again, she’s taken care of things.
Even her basement is cleared out,
leaving no trace of her, leaving you
with no chores to do, no light
you can make brighter,
no thing you can make stand tall again.