Three years ago from today,
I watched your neck snap and
swing loosely from your spine
from a tightly tied noose,
like the detached sole of
your brown church loafers.

During the autumn, the leaves
that ripped new orange contrasted
from the purple observable on your
face.

I watched your body dangle
from the banyan tree next
to the rickety tire swing in which
was once a steady structure, but was
now so close to dilapidation, just
like you and mama’s marriage.

And oh how you always hit her with
the tea kettle at eight in the morning
while it was still hot brewing of
mysterious faucet liquid because
your farm couldn't pay for plumbing,

And oh how while mama was away and
little Josh played cars with Susie
I watched your neck swing and twirl,
and finally breathed.

But after three years ago,
I watched mama walk down
a carmine carpet, her
white mermaid tail wedding
dress complimented the
beautiful chrysanthemums
among the ground.

I watched salty rivers dangle from
her eyes like you neck to your spine,
not from a beating of hot medal
at eight in the morning, but of
the tan man, Jose, who we all
loved dearly, not because of the
new plumbing and tire swing that he
provided, but because we saw mama
smile and dance and laugh for the first
time, since three years ago from today.