I’m foregoing a vacation to paint my late mother’s home.
Maybe fresh coats of bright white will brush away the betrayal,
trauma, loss that inhabited the rooms in her last years.
It’s time to spruce up a place that once shined
with my mother’s spirit and smile. I’ll go with blue in the bedroom;
a light sky blue to bring some of the heavens back inside.
Buttery yellow, like the Easter coat I wore as a child,
for the empty dining room. It once held a mahogany table
that served a young family of five, but the bulky furniture
blocked the terrace light beaming in sunny mornings.
“Al” said he’d even touch up the laundry and closets
where her classy clothes once hung, dissolving stains of rage,
residues of illness that created family seisms.
I’m trusting a palette of pastels for closure and renewal.
Amy B. Barone