Ashes  l #Anna14 l #NaPoWriMo
These poems are about my mother. She passed in the month of April 14 years ago. Her name was Anna Rose. Her name is Anna Rose
It was one of those nights when mom decided to blow caution to the wind Kool cigarette curled inside her arthritic finger sitting outside the house on the hand-made bench dad built a glorious spring night serving as the backdrop for what had to be the millionth time we cyphered
I don’t remember the subject of our conversation I only remember her asking me if I had one of them Black ‘N’ Milds she learned of my smoking habit by happenstance in the same conversation she learned of the occasional illegal drink I would down at the Reggae club on those nights when I was exchanging the gospel of the pulpit for the gospel of the open mic
I handed her a Black pulled one out for myself she took a slow drag complimented its flavor I lit the slender body of my cigar drew the nicotine through the plastic tip and between exhales we silently accepted a new truth
Her little boy was becoming a man a survivor of a life that began hazy at best we were just beginning to make ashes of her overprotective nature just starting to spark a new relationship and with the flick of a lighter the light of my life flamed out.











