Karen's Gift
Jean Howard
As Karen’s mother lay
in the morgue
her jewelry lay
gold cardboard box
necklace
bracelet
two earrings
Elegant as summer rain
against cotton
small tears of rhinestone
they float atop
my chest of drawers
Brilliant grief
Even as Karen’s mother
lay in the morgue
the next day
at daybreak
I press the jewelry
against my pulse
Silk knots
on georgette
cinnamon backstitch
their flowers sprinkle
down each garter
Even as glass gulps fire
from silence
a daughter’s rage
ignites each stone
Your hands encase
my wrists
As Karen’s mother
lay in the morgue
we cry and rock
and drown in brilliance
A shutter fills our core
We lay and watch
the morning enter
the twinkle of death
still floating
in the room.
Jean Howard
As Karen’s mother lay
in the morgue
her jewelry lay
gold cardboard box
necklace
bracelet
two earrings
Elegant as summer rain
against cotton
small tears of rhinestone
they float atop
my chest of drawers
Brilliant grief
Even as Karen’s mother
lay in the morgue
the next day
at daybreak
I press the jewelry
against my pulse
Silk knots
on georgette
cinnamon backstitch
their flowers sprinkle
down each garter
Even as glass gulps fire
from silence
a daughter’s rage
ignites each stone
Your hands encase
my wrists
As Karen’s mother
lay in the morgue
we cry and rock
and drown in brilliance
A shutter fills our core
We lay and watch
the morning enter
the twinkle of death
still floating
in the room.
