Like a Pallbearer

or like a bride walking

next to my mother down the rows

of flowers, hums of bumbles;

posies in our path we step and scuff:

My mother once found a twenty dollar bill in a parking lot

She has the eye the iris; me arm in

arm with her: not much of a treasure.

My mother loots the bittersweet and honeysuckle and

amber, she asks is this the treasure?

she answers.

I ask, Where is the garden? Where is my mother?

We battle each other, we fight an army of spirits,

sprites, fairies, goblins

my mother leading the vanguard

we find all the treasures.

About Karen To and Fro

Everything you didn't want to know about me!
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