Polishing the Silver

By

Mary Ellen Heidgen

I’m polishing the silver today.

I don’t know why.

I’m scrubbing a handsome tarnished fork,

But I’m remembering his young, unlined face,

His beard-shadowed jaw, firm with promise.

I’m polishing the silver today.

I don’t know why.

His brave parents, silvery knives, standing guard,

Constant vigilant sentinels,

A loving parenthesis framing his short life of struggle.

I’m polishing the silver today.

I don’t know why.

Mourning, tearful teens like graceful teaspoons,

Remembering football and fun, pizza and parties,

All deleted in a moment.

I’m polishing the silver today.

I don’t know why.

Why can’t I rub away that awful day

And bring back his shining youth, his laughing presence

Like a genie floating from a gleaming spoon?

I’m polishing the silver today.

And I do know why.