This poem was also inspired by Brooke’s mom. Blue morning glories always remind me of Jo. Looking back on this poem now, I see that it probably needs a lot of work. There are a few places where it almost seems like I’m telling an inside story of some kind. I’m sorry for that. It resonated with me then! I’m going to leave it as is though – in an effort to let this be what it is: a poem from my past.
MORNING GLORY
Every time I pass the vine, I think of you.
I think of you on the balcony basking in the light of the rising sun.
Waves crash in our ears, and we talk about nothing and everything all at once.
I try not to think of the night you left.
You clung desperately to the life that loved you.
The life that treated you so well.
The life that gave you the beautiful family you left behind.
I remember watching him hold your hand and whisper loving words into your ear.
I remember you reaching out to touch his face, just before you fell into sleep.
I wondered then why the good are always the ones to die young.
Or maybe, the bad die young too, but maybe we just don’t care enough to notice.
So I said goodbye, unwillingly.
Glad to see your pain gone, cried at the pain we had yet to endure.
I huge her a lot.
Let her know I love her,
And we remember you together.
We return to the balcony, eat the bacon and think back to when you were here.
The sun shines on her face just as it did on yours, and I marvel at the resemblance.
The flowers returned today, in all their glory, in spite of us thinking they were gone.
Hello to you too, my friend.
Katie Swisher (née Kermeen)
October 5, 1999
Mrs. Swish 