100: coma, interlude 23


my mother is fond of the claim:
gardens, time, gardens time.
Yes, she would say,
tomorrow, will another garden be.

In Richard Three:
“. . . our firm estate,
When our sea-walled garden, the whole land,
Is full of weeds, her fairest flowers choked up”

which was, she said,
the last thing she heard him say.

I was under a tree, she said,
snipping things.  That’s all.
And he, she said, was up the deck
directing, shouting,
saying things like:
I’ll get it all back, I heard,
I’ll go the neighborhood
getting all my stuff back.
And then he quoted Richard,
on gardens or something.
Richard and then he just quite,
closed his eyes,
and went to sleep.

and that’s what
she told after I opened
the door to her
standing there,
with her little hands
closed into balls.


  1. Posted August 28, 2011 at 1:19 pm | Permalink

    It has been interesting and the stories here intriguing, Steve. I hope you do choose to continue these and share them This one is poignant and rich with images of human emotion.

  2. Krista
    Posted August 28, 2011 at 5:46 pm | Permalink

    Intrusting way to end it. I thought for sure the main character would have been killed by Thor.

  3. Steve Veilleux
    Posted September 1, 2011 at 9:20 am | Permalink

    I’ve commented much more in my head about this piece than in this little comment block, but have been immensely intrigued by this piece. Who knows, it may motivate me to re-ignite my own passion for writing.

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