Images of You

by Mara Conlon

I have only a few images of you to keep

But they are replayed, so I will never forget.

We were in the ocean and

You told me that it wasn't the boat

That had made those waves

And I accepted that.

Little Jean Ann came crawling to you

You extended your arms out

Happiness in your eyes

Everyone said that you took to her

Because she was the only one

Who didn't know you were sick

The only one who looked at you without seeing what was to come

I wished I had had those innocent eyes.

Then you came to visit

And I hugged your frail, bony body

To let you know I wasn't afraid

It was that weekend that the bullet

Came through our window

I begged you not to go outside

But what had you to fear?

We laughed together

Here you are dying, and you

Come to visit us and

You could've gotten shot by a stray bullet

The irony.

My favorite story of you

Is told by Gina

You were driving down to the shore

In bumper to bumper traffic

You were getting pissed off

At the cars that were driving on the shoulder

Getting ahead of everyone

So you pulled onto the shoulder

And drove really, really, slowly

They screamed and honked

And you smiled.

I wasn't there at your bedside

But I saw you

Under the white blanket

Motionless

Caved in