there was no fire
there was no smoke
only firemen
and a burst sprinkler system
but Mom could lie
in bed
looking up and point to
where the smoke
had seeped in
even weeks later
in the dining hall
the repairs finished
she would still ask me
if I could see
where the fire had been
I looked at her
and saw where the fire had been
I saw her
in the bright morning Summer sun
walking through heavy dewed grass
thick with crickets
wiping down the lines
hanging our laundry
up to dry
whistling along
as Nat King Cole sang
Mona Lisa
in her head