Matriarch

[Vistaldust]

"Matriarch"

She was old, grey and smart
when her teeth were in.
In spring and autumn she could
feel the rain in her arms.

But I, a young boy, could connive her
into giving me sweet cough drops,
faking a hack after she came home
from her long walk from the drugstore,
before she strangled her rosary beads,
whispering words I did not understand,
getting bored from listening,
chewing my Vick's after three sucks,
looking at her framed congratulations from
Jimmy Carter for reaching ninety,
wondering how the young dark beauty
in that ancient photo could be the same
veinous, wrinkled woman sitting in that chair,
reading the holy book filled with enough
memorial prayer cards to bookmark every page.

She always embarrassed me,
bellowing out of the living room window
to wear a hat in 70 degree weather,
while neighborhood kids laughed at me.
I told her to leave me alone.
I told her I hated her.

Then Sunday came,
and she added sugar to the spaghetti sauce
from a recipe she created.
My mother scolded her like a child
until she walked away with her head down.
Then I went into my room and sobbed.

[rowens]

This one seems pretty good too. And again I'm not in the mindset to find anything wrong with it. I'll try again later.

[animasrwm]

"Matriarch"

She was old, grey and smart
when her teeth were in.
In spring and autumn she could
feel the rain in her arms. Why only spring and autumn

But I, a young boy, could connive using connive just for sake of using it
into giving me sweet cough drops,
faking a hack after she came home
from her long walk from the drugstore,
before she strangled her rosary beads,
whispering words I did not understand,
getting bored from listening,
chewing my Vick's after three sucks,
looking at her framed congratulations from
Jimmy Carter for reaching ninety,
wondering how the young dark beauty
in that ancient photo could be the same
veinous, wrinkled woman sitting in that chair,
reading the holy book filled with enough
memorial prayer cards to bookmark every page.

She always embarrassed me,
bellowing out of the living room window
to wear a hat in 70 degree weather, to wear is not grammatically correct
while neighborhood kids laughed at me.
I told her to leave me alone.
I told her I hated her.

Then Sunday came,
and she added sugar to the spaghetti sauce
from a recipe she created.
My mother scolded her like a child
until she walked away with her head down.
Then I went into my room and sobbed. Why? You hate her