The Memory That Sticks - Donna Shomer

I am sitting in the breakfast nook
I always have dinner there when mom goes out
Deep red leather bench
Dark wooden table
Scrambled eggs.
One of the many uncles
at my mothers elbow
she in her fine hat
with the half veil and long
black gloves
she says goodbye and I ask
how I could possibly
be in this world
what about birth and what about death
how do we get here how do
we leave and she
says to uncle I don’t remember his name
‘not tonight’ and she
pulls each finger of both gloves carefully
and evenly and she
withdraws her hands and
takes out the hatpin and sets
her hat next to the gloves
on the table
near my eggs
and she sits down and she
begins.