It is not only on her birthday, and the day she left i remember her everyday...without fail her thoughts visit me when i rise in the morning she hints to me what she'd do if she were in my shoes at night, i whisper, "talk to me...in my sleep..."
in my dreams, our eyes seldom meet...she's younger now, lovelier always busy pruning her bougainvillas and dama de noche, the usual scene....maybe, she's telling me this is how it's going to be that everything would be okay, even when i, too, am gone.
it's like, she's just outside, tending her garden it's like she's absent, just traveling, for a while.
in the minds of my children and grandchildren my siblings and their families her memories play on and on, like a record spinning on a turntable she's a serenade...a classical piano piece that won't fade my late mother...she's a song that will not die.
Sally Copyright May 7, 2015 Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
***Happy Mother's Day to all the mothers in and out of Hello Poetry!***