The Blanket...
The other night I walked home… And I came upon a woman that reminded me of my Mother… Except my Mother didn’t smell of urine or have a swollen infected foot with rotten bandages… We talked for a while. She reminded me of my Mother… Except my Mother didn’t have flies buzzing around her…and carry around little bags of rotten food… We talked about all kinds of things in life. Some made sense. Some didn’t. At least not to me. At least not right then and there. But who am I to judge… She really reminded me of my Mother… Except my Mother didn’t have a plastic trash bag wrapped around her legs as her only means of keeping warm on a blustery rainy night… And my Mother wasn’t beholden to a wheelchair… She spoke kindly and laughed here and there. Much like my Mother… She also had soft clear eyes and was overly self-conscious about her appearance and perceived body odor… Much like my Mother when she was bed ridden… I asked her what she needed the most. She
