Mama's Day

'Oh those sounds take me back to Maryland with your dad. He was even more surprised than mewhen we saw all those big black beetles crawling all over the cracks of the little sidewalk outside our house.' There was a beetle moving slow above the sink where all the debris goes that my mom didn't want thrown away but what my dad, all manly and tough, thought should be got rid of. Dumped. It passed a piece of green bottle glass that my mother thought was special and so she put her property there beside an old cigar case made of tin. And of course the rosary for Mary's sin felt the hard prick of the insect's walk. Bright sunshine made Mom fine and the breeze softly pushing the leaves was my own remedy to touch that free and delicate moment so rare when theives dressed as papas loot the heart and break small castles into rubble where nothing can grow, but only send sparks of something else that might be whole into another day to patiently wait for when Papa smiles more and the days grow quicker than his ill concealed nights.