I am young- small,
youthfully slight and skinny
with grasping fingers.
You turn your back to me
and begin trudging away.
All I can remember is
reaching to hang onto your apron laces-
wrapping my fingers in it
and being dragged along,
my feet leaving furrows in the soft ground of spring.
You don't look
or acknowledge me at your back-
only prompt quick steps as
we pass in peace to summer
with the sun high, hot on our skin.
I let loose of you and dance amid
green pastels smeared with grass glistening wet.
I stretch my legs now found strong
with lengthened stride
and I spin circles around you
never focusing on your face.
With the vanity of adolescence
I forget our journey and become
vociferous in play.
But soon the skies, they darken
and my grasping skinny hands, they find.
Clutching for comfort -- apron strings
your careful bow tie
and chasing the rabbit knot.
Under sheets of rain that knock the leaves from the trees, we walk.
Silent--
among the howling of nature.
I grow taller than you
and my body matures.
You look small and fragile now,
frail in the whipping wind
as fall freezes into winter.
We are cold and hold hands,
alongside each other in lurching momentum through the long hours.
I am a man now--
tall, lithe, and toned.
Full of imperial inflection
as if the vicissitudes of spring once again overtook me,
I fill the empty air with vibrations.
The chatter of blue jays join
still you stride forward,
though stumbling here and there.
And I can hear your knees pop,
the joints grind, the mouth grim.
Snow melt wets the tongue
and water drips from beard
as I still follow you.
Sometimes at a distance,
other times huddling close in your emotional shelter-
we walk
past my wedding
and others now journey with us.
We become a pack
a group-
yet,
you're always out in front.
Pressing on, one foot after the next.
Single minded and silent
as the sun once again dawns on yet another spring
I see your goal and shout
and scream
and cry
and run to catch
to hold
to stop
prevent
block
but you're walking faster now
I wrap my grasping fingers
in your apron strings
and I pull hard as my muscles can
As if metal caught in a magnetic force
I am dragged toward your grave
And in your maddening march
there is true intent
as you topple.
Eventually I know
that I will awake and it will be this day
For now I know, I cannot handle it.

Yellow striped apron
drapes her flesh
as the meat sizzles in the pan
My senses huddle
the view from behind
more appetizing a meal

Yellow striped apron
is a nightgown
made in Spain
in the heat of the afternoon
making siesta impossible
if she is the cook

Oh Jesus I drool
I thirst I crave
I want I yearn
for
the ingredients behind
Yellow striped apron

The Apron and the Gun

I see an Apron around your waist
  And its ******* about your breast
    It is Keeping you from spills and splats
       and it's keeping you from the mess

Is there a machine gun at your side?
   Or something just as strong?
      What does it take to care for all of them
          and Protect them from what's wrong?

I know your mothering and all your care
    I know your life's gone up and down
        You've shunned tears and ignored despair
            Your strength shows us how to hold our ground

The strength that is in you my dear
    Is a power not often mentioned and not seen
        But it Keeps our lives safe and without much fear
            Makes us who we are and keeps us safe and clean

When you hang your apron and put aside your guns
    When you loose your hair and lay you down
        You still have time for me and some
            Love, and hugs and kisses and fun

You are the perfect woman, the mother of all living
    You are my wonderous friend and spouse,
        Your comfort and all of your daily giving
            Make you my warm and safe home and house.