I am Deaf, but this has not always been so. In utero, before it all began, I imagine my mother must have spoken to me. Now, when she sits close by, I can smell her cigarette breath -- and I wonder, deeply moved,  what it is she could've said. 

Coffee perks in little chugs of rhythm

scent wafts into bedroom in wispy waves

the best thing of all is husband brews it.

croaks cascade in echo pools

I close my eyes to take me back

to nights of old when I was young

When rust and grease coat the air

My mind wanders to the gravel road

Tear stained cheeks and blood stained clothes

I sit near the window waiting for you to call my name.. I hear nothing but the whistling of leaves, the whining of the wind. Wonder who is the one laying in your arms right now, hearing your sighs, breathing your scent in and out.. 

It’s only the smell of cough drops, but suddenly

I can hear it, too: the taut crackle of her laugh,

like bread crusts tearing and a last exhalation of steam. 

Brittle pages crisp with time, binding coming undone

Stained, yellowed with sublime age, a broken bird 

Fragile memories told with musty wisdom

The salty sea wind

tickles my nose and

brings back memories

of a lifetime.

a Knock On the Door.

I Knew It Would Come.

Break my Back; I Ain't Gonna Run. #B27321