Mama

–For Sacrifices

 

By Scott M. Reamer

 

That day will come, it will break upon all your knowing, all your idiocy, all your dreams will ravel up, hidden inside of your love.

That love will be immaterial, it will bring your little warmth into your mother’s ice tea arms, it will bring your pansies perennial blooming wilts, it will bring your summer’s auburn locks rushing beach winds, it will bring your father’s pearlescent pinto Sunday drives, it will bring your family home high countertops, it will bring your brother’s drunken rock zeppelin stereo at volume, it will bring your sister’s sameness ruddy scissors jealousy doll, it will bring your other brother’s ham frequencies basement allergenic, it will bring your last unfinished romance airport pregnant, it will bring your son blurry eyed cross bearer, it will bring your deferred tolerances smoking patience limitless, it will bring your clever cat transmuted into pewter miniature, it will bring your better lives breath fogging translucent mask winter windows.

That day will come, it will breach through all your perceived “sole purpose” legacy, through all your ideations in faith’s laundry, through all your truly perfect virtues purity, revealing beyond your you is me.

That night our ships will pass again familiar, we will be strolling laps upon viridian field grass shoots no chitchat matters in focus, we will meet the adult me on asphalt blotter sheets under siege, we will know the true color of the Black Sea Bosporus steam ship, we will purse smiles knowing the other knows clever, we will be tired by what one does better, we will learn mendacity closing distances, we will be together when ashes scatter “anyplace but water” miasmic attic reverie.

That day will come again, it will dawn like it does, it will be another peripatetic phase boots cordovan, it will have been for “you are my purpose” stave from this holy moment, it will outwit me for lengths unknown, it will repeat me, it will repeat like legend, it will repeat like it… like it ought to.

 

Scott’s Bio:

My interest in poetry stems from the visual arts, as I am a painter who understands language to be equally as evocative as the image itself. My work as a poet is a process of translation which bridges these two mediums of expression. From a young age, I have been writing half tales and developed a sensibility regarding the open artistic structural modus and deconstructive similarities in each field of expression. I am currently working on a poetic sequence of 500 poems which I hope to release by the start of next year. The opportunities afforded to me by mentors and dear friends drive my unyielding sense of purpose in both the world of academics and educational reform. I currently teach painting and use this dialogue in order to broaden a safe and unprejudiced sphere of affection to those who have endured loss and suffering. I hope that my work continues to touch those who feel lost with a guiding light that says to them you are not alone.

Scott wrote this poem for a poetry course taught by Susan Miller, who selected the piece as an WHR featured poem.