Edye had a penchant for all things uncomfortable.
In her heels and forest green half shirts she looked like a tree but moved like the breeze.
She had big owl eyes that could see things from behind.
Motherhood was over her head but never quite beneath her feet
thought love could be a cradle, but lacked the stand to hold it in place.
Somewhere along her road she decided the world was better off without her
Her children were grown but carried a chip on their shoulders that looked a lot like their mother
She taught them comfort in hurt, heart in those fleeting
They fear commitment in the same way they fear achievements
They smile because she was both heaven and hell. She was the anchor and the sails
She was good advice without the pinkey promise and the thumb bite to seal it
To them Edye was the blinding beauty, disguised as ugly
The voice of down blankets without the kiss to make it better.
I can’t speak on behalf of my mother’s street cracks, only from the wind that caught my little girl skirts and she moved passed me as she walked away
But I know when she died her ashen hands held my heart and the echo of her words carried me through the dark.