My Mother's Ghost Floats Through Me

I see her hand

in my hand

as I shell peas

her joints ache in my knees

when the skies light up

with fourth of july

I shudder at the bombs

of her childhood

last week we worried about birds

when the men came to fell

the wild trees in my front yard

my mother’s ghost

floats through me

on her way to other places

and at this brief intersection

of our two souls

i see through her eyes

hear through her ears

feel the rough ground

with two soles, tough like mine,

tender like hers.

July 7, 2008; rev 7/14/08