A poem by Mary Fox
She took your old-but-still-working truck
to her new job, taught her kids to drive in it,
loaned it to her husband when his jeep pooped out,
fetched groceries and birthday presents in it.
Whenever she drove it back to visit me,
our old cat Boguy slid outside to examine the tires,
sniffed each carefully to check where she’d been,
then return to the house to rub against her,
purring in his approval.
(Earlier, when I had given her your key nob,
its tinny metal and crackly plastic,
lingered in my finger memory—
a kind of scent or, perhaps, some imprint of you
that never wore off after you died.
I could hold in my hand and remember
the warmth of your touch.
It felt like a smile—a nod of approval—
encouragement to hand your keys to someone
who would use your old truck to nurture others
the way you cared for our garden, our home, our lives—
About the Author:
Mary Fox, a Detroit-born poet, resides Portland, MI. She graduated from Michigan State University (BA) and Central Michigan University (MS.). In 2016, she published “Waiting for Rain”, a poetry chapbook, with Finishing Line Press. Her 2019 chapbook is “Reading Lessons” (Finishing Line Press). She enjoys working with her writing groups, exchanging poetry ideas with other poets, supporting local poetry venues, and performing in the Lansing area. Mary’s current work can be found in a variety journals and anthologies.
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