Steve Orlen
Let
It Snow
After her husband died, she decided to spend everything
And let the State take care of her when she emptied out.
She had little imagination and did not bother to imagine
That the State was not an extension of her children
And her children worried about her finances.
Took a trip she’d dreamed of for years, to
“The grass is much greener than here” –
But remained in the hotel, reading, while the others
Went in search of monuments – “My legs hurt.”
Home again, she bought clothes for her next trip, outfits
For all seasons, and when the coats, the jackets, the dresses,
Skirts and slacks squeezed together in her closet
Like commuters in a
She bought expensive costume jewelry, then got sick.
It was nothing, this illness, but it was bed-rest, and when the fever
Broke and she tried to get out of bed, her legs
Refused her summons, so she slept more,
And when she finally got up, she ate “like a pig,”
Got stronger, decided one morning to drive the old car again –
“My independence is all I’ve got.” – and got lost –
“No one lives where they live anymore,”
Got in a foolish accident, refused to go out –
“Lost my will,” she said, and one son cajoled her
And the other let her be, not wanting to be either
Father or husband, both with good intentions.
She gave her new clothes to the weekly maid,
Jewelry to a favorite granddaughter,
Wedding ring included at the last minute,
Furniture to a young couple just starting out,
So the house was suddenly full of gaps
A blind man would have tripped over.
Finally the photo albums to whoever wanted
Historical glimpses of a past they’d had no part in.
Then the past itself lost its continuity: she forgot birthdays,
Except her own, and blew out the candles – “I’m so happy
Just to be still alive” – and gained a new sense of time:
Began to eat as her father had taught her,
Each small mouthful sixty chews, so lunch took
From
So wandered the house. One morning she didn’t get dressed –
It was snowing, where would she go, anyway? –
“Isn’t it lovely, the snow,” she said wistfully
And lounged on the couch reading Romance novels,
And when the snow stayed on, she re-read them. “The sex
Is always so long. Your father was always slam-bam,
Thank-you-ma’am.” And when the younger son joked
That the couch was beginning to take on the shape
Of her body, she said, “I had such a stunning body.
What a shame no one’s left to appreciate it.”
Forgot her medications, forgot suppers, got thinner,
Smiled as a form of listening, and when the elder son
Mentioned that she needed a new roof, she said
“Dad will take care of it,” then felt foolish,
Remembering how dead he really was, and said
“Let it snow. That used to be a song.
Where is it now when I need it?”
First
published in TriQuarterly.