You Have to Stop Talking!

Happy Mother's Day Joycey Baby!!! We miss you so much!

I hear her
in the wind
rustling the leaves
at the top
of the trees
no matter where
I am.

I see her
when I see
a young mother
bending over
and picking up
her baby
and resting her 
on her hip.

Mom, aka Joyce Moore, Joyce Anne McClure, Joycey Baby, Nana, Super Nana, The Singer, circa 2022.

I feel her
when one of my sisters
hugs me
and sinks the side 
of their face 
into my chest.

When I wash my face
with a bar of Ivory soap
and close my eyes,
I envision her
and see her smile,
her hazel eyes,
when she was young, older,
happy, healthier.

I think of her
when I smell burnt toast,
fresh brewed coffee,
baby powder,
Tide detergent
on a clean towel.

I think of her
anytime 
I hear any song
by Miles Davis,
Dave Brubeck, 
The Supremes,
she would sing along
to every song
but knew almost
none of the words!

I know her
and she’s just too feisty
to lay down 
and be still,
to lay there
and be quiet.

No, I’m sure
she’s carrying on,
everyday,
in her Joycey Baby 
ways.

I was three years old!

I bet Dad’s 
laying there,
next to her, 
and for the first time
ever, 
likely forever, 
not saying,
“You have to stop
talking!!!”