Extraordinary Sunshine Weaver

In Yesterday’s post, I shared a poem about my sister Martha and a preview to today’s poem, “Mom’s Song and Dance”. Yesterday I explained my parents’ emotional anguish over Martha’s and my decision to move from home into our own apartment. As the oldest girls, Martha and I were heavily depended on to help out as we had a large family. My parents used every emotional bullet they could shoot at us to keep us at home, but we moved on. We had signed a lease and gotten counseling to prepare for the war with our parents.

Everyone survived our move. My younger siblings stepped up and helped out, even cooking! My brothers are all better cooks than I am. But Mom found it hard to forgive us for a while. Even though we often spent time with her, she would complain about us to strangers we passed on Main Street on our way for a burger and fries at Pete’s Cafe. 🤣

This memoir poem is in my book Three-Penny Memories: A Poetic Memoir.

Mom’s Song - and Dance

Do linden leaves cry as they release 
their grasp from their Mother’s skirt?
How does she feel when her bounty 
loses grip? Her children, her color burst.
Their song to her in crisp wind play.
Their poetry, how it beds their paths.
As more let go, they reveal the clouds,
gray with drifts of snow that blanket
Mother’s heart until the day she dons 
her spring attire for Easter prayer. That is -

until her oldest girls, both adults,
announce their departure
to their own place, a small apartment
next to the church!

My sister and I conspire,
after counseling with Apate,
to cut the roots, transplant
ourselves. Thrive in new soil. 

Apate has prepared us for their terror,
their agonizing throes, their many deaths.
Mother threatens another heart attack
for Dad, who threatens to stab himself.

The down payment made, 
the lease signed. No turning back.
I am anxious, having failed my parents. 
Walking out on them. Indeed, while shopping, 

she stops strangers to tattle, “My daughters, 
up and leaving. So ungrateful. 
After all I’ve done. They’re
the death of me. And their father!”

My sister and I settle in.
Remaster our lives.
Mother still bakes pies, 
sharpens knives.

© Barbara Leonhard

Amazon Blurb

“Do you love your mother?”

This provocative question provides the catalyst for this stunning poetic memoir from Barbara Harris Leonhard. Through her artfully-crafted poetry, the author considers where her love and loyalties lie following her aging mother’s diagnosis with Alzheimer’s

Editorial Reviews 

Review

“Barbara Leonhard has given us a memoir that is an intricately woven tapestry of loss, grief, and struggle for reconciliation.”

– Walter Bargen, Missouri’s first Poet Laureate

“Leonhard is a storyteller; her poetry shares lived experience as well as narratives she has listened to or witnessed in her writing journey.”

– Kristiana Reed, Editor of Free Verse Revolution

“I really resonated with these very moving and haunting poems…marvelous work.”

– James Diaz, Poetry Editor, Anti-Heroin Chic