Every Year, the Flowers.

Kristen Lenea Ryberg

Mom’s little Memorial Garden

Today I tend Mom's little Memorial Garden 
the Paper Whites and Peonies opening.
Laid away, anticipated yearly
like our school clothes at JC Penny. 
On final payment day handed over the counter 
installments noted on the tag. 

In her garden a Praying Mantis sac in disguise as twig.
Three hundred baby Mantis's pray, in their case.
Mantis mothers use stereoscopic vision 
to fiercely protect, hunt what is necessary for survival.

Her symbolism thought to be a guide 
for those needing direction, in life or death.
She represents patience and perseverance.
Controls pests. 

Mom ironed our clothes, loved 
her menthols, did stand-up in waiting rooms  
made her bed and dressed
every morning lip-sticked and sneakered.

Packed the Rambler for camping
peaked between the metal blinds
for his head-lights. 

Slept soundly in prickly brush-rollers
asked me to track purchases 
with the push button pocket-counter
at the commissary. 
Tipped the baggers.