(Cellphone Call—to the hospital in the evening)     

What were you doing mom
I was eating dinner
what did you have
I don’t remember
was it edible
it must have been because I ate it
that was my mother—quickly here—mensa-like—
I laughed and said goodnight mom
goodnight son she said and goodnight moon
goodnight room goodnight air and goodnight noises
everywhere
I smiled again—recalling the nursery rhyme too—
and said love you
the same she said the same

“Invisible Streams” B.W. Powe (Upcoming Publication)