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Sally Bliumis-Dunn

MEANING

My mother is eighty-two,
not so steady on her feet;

she falls now and then;
last week, in her driveway;

missed a step she said; she has
more of them now:

moments when she seems
almost absent from herself

and the greedy earth pulls her.
I watch leaves fall

and wonder how
it can be the same word,

a few yellow leaves now,
just outside my window,

caught suddenly in
an updraft, like butterflies

drifting down, before
they land on a flower,

wings opening,
and closing like lungs.

–from Rattle #26, Winter 2006

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