Birthday
-Tomorrow’s my mother’s birthday-
I told her
I picked up my beer
and looked at the bottle
-Oh she said
she shifted in her chair
-Are you going to
go to the cemetery-
I took a drink of beer
and looked out the window
-I don’t know I said
-Sometimes I do
but not always-
-Well she said
-Maybe you should-
I leaned back in my chair
holding the bottle out in front of me
-You never liked my mother
did you-
I watched her as she sat forward
and looked at me
-What she said
-I never even knew your mother-
I rested the bottle against my leg
-You didn’t I said
I raised up the bottle
and took another drink
she was shaking her head at me
-Are you sure I asked
-Yes I’m sure she said
-When we met
your mother was already dead-
-Oh I said
I guess that was someone else-
-Well she said
I guess so-
I finished off the beer
and held up the empty bottle
I slowly turned the bottle in my hand
-You know I said
I think my mother
would’ve liked you-
she didn’t say anything
she just sat there
looking down at her hands
I got up and threw
away the empty bottle
-Maybe I said
tomorrow I’ll go
and put some flowers
on my mother’s grave-
she looked up at me
and nodded her head
-Yes she said
I think that would be nice-
James Babbs has been writing for most of his life but he still manages to learn new things. He has written hundreds of poems and a few short stories and has even had a few of them published. More recently James has been indulging in writing haiku with a certain amount of success. He still thinks about writing a novel someday but that just seems like an awful lot of words.
