Thanksgiving
Drove for 4 ½ hours,
to sit and watch my mom sleep.
No feast.
I missed that.
Which is okay.
Instead of going for a walk
or watching football with my dad,
I’m watching the Macy’s Parade
And my Mom in her bed,
set low to the floor,
with cushions on each side.
Small bruise on her forehead,
probably from falling out of bed.
Which is why there are cushions.
Federal regulations don’t permit
bedrails for adults.
So I sit
Listen to Broadway actors sing,
Followed by the blah blah blah of the announcers.
I watch Mom.
She might be dreaming,
happy ones, I hope.
She sighs,
and calls out.
Indistinguishable sounds,
Like the ones she makes when awake.
Except softer
As if she
knows she’s asleep.
