NYU Black Renaissance Noire Volume 18 Issue 3 - Fall 2018 - Page 16

5. Mom I have a son his name is David mom I am so in love with that little guy Mom can I get in bed with you  Mom I don’t think I’m gonna make it I held that ache inside thought it would kill me Once I arrived in California I realized he had called three times Mom thank you for your unconditional love and guidance you have always stood by me mama sista I love you like no sorry for your foryour lossssorry your loss Tonight I want to hold the rain To be that small boy walking for the first time red shirt blue overalls bald head three shiny new teeth my twin brother comes to my window every night begging to be let in I’ve seen his rage bloom stout trees between us could not go to the site to bury the body hold me I fear I’ll never speak again Finally they pry my lips apart hissing “my mother bury she husband who fall from heart attack in de morning and my mother bury she second chile, a son, who fall from heart attack dat evening my mother bury both ah dem next day and not one time not one time she even ask the earth why” sorry for your loss -Fitzroy the cab driver who took me to the ferry in Anguilla With these tears I have made war sorrow a blue Angel crashing against my teeth grief is a dangerous widow forgetting names of To walk alone the deep side of river I think it’s Monday are the neighbors here sorry I have come to love Markers Mark honey when will the sun return three shots of whiskey Age thirteen leaving Trinidad nineteen sixty-four arriving alone to New York City my parents no longer speak to each other dad takes me to the airport holds my hand mom lost somewhere in that hospital bed sorry praise the daughter in me and the brave son who carries my poetry praise him 5. Cerulean blue color of Swazi Gods After our son’s death we poured colored sugar over our cereal to keep our love sweet 6. My daughter-in-law and I bring our arms full of grief to Annie’s massage table it is in a sweet cottage on the grounds of the lavish Coronado Hotel on the West Coast where Marilyn Monroe filmed Some Like It Hot in 1958 You lay on Annie’s table soft eucalyptus and bergamot oils fill the room Annie says let me shift your sorrow and mama just cry cry mama outside pregnant women walk the beach with mothers sisters lovers Once at the beach in Tobago we made paper boats sailed them to God knows where damn Malik I thought I’d have you forever a chicken coop brood of children you watch a one year old boy take his first steps he tumbles over with each half step he gets up grins tumbles again his screeches fill the impossible length of ocean