Waiting
We shared a step-mom, never
a roof. You
opted for Manhattan
lights, I languished beneath Ohio
stars. Your friends held
5th Avenue doors. I never
captured your grace, beauty,
independence. Your nurse
tidying up, takes
a brush to your wavy hair that
will be shorn when your
regression precludes
sitting up. The beach
scene painting on the sand-
colored wall brings me crashing
wave memories of body
surfing, Jones Beach sea glass
hunting, together. You
babble at the unrecognizable. I
gaze at a horse chestnut, waiting for
leaves to drop, along with the last
shards of your
memory, when you’ll forget
to breath.
Karen Wolf is a Pushcart Prize nominee. She has been published in Rocking Poems in Honor of Walt Whitman’s 200th Birthday, Chaleur Magazine, Adanna Journal, Ground Fresh Thursday, Silkworm 12, and many others. Her chapbook, THAT’S JUST THE WAY IT IS, was published by Finishing Line Press in 2018. She says that poetry soothes the savage beast and opens her eyes to the beauty that abounds within the world.