Skipping Rope In Heaven

Skipping Rope In Heaven
© Surazeus
2024 11 01

Without laughter of children in the house 
the television sings old vaudeville tunes, 
and sweet illusions of home magazines 
display unattainable scenes of Heaven, 
so she listens to sad growl of machines 
who argue politics with the white raven. 

While baking cake in the kitchen at noon, 
she looks outside to see her daughter play 
skipping rope while she sings about the moon, 
but, when she calls her to come in and eat, 
only her ghost remains beside the tree, 
only her soft voice whispering in the wind. 

Wearing red fur-lined parka and blue jeans, 
and white sneakers that squeak on rain-wet rocks, 
she hikes the Long Trail among curious trees 
toward the summit of Glastenbury Mountain 
that shimmers half-gold in the misty haze, 
back and forth in bright mirror-flashing daze. 

Ice chunks float in the silver Batten Kill, 
indifferent to songs on the radio 
that echo faintly among lonely elms 
who ask white-breasted nuthatch if she knows 
where the little girl has disappeared to, 
if she remembers the sound of her voice. 

Riding in the car that speeds down the road 
with hypnotic swirl of the time machine, 
she asks the happy demon if he knows 
names of the horses grazing in lush fields, 
if he is the evil black knight who wields 
sword of death on aggressive battlefields. 

Gazing at large painting on marble wall, 
the Battle of Alexander at Issus, 
she asks the happy demon why good men 
must fight to kill cruel tyrants of the world, 
though Darius may have been very nice 
since he held banquets in grand mirrored halls. 

Gunshot that echoes among lonely elms 
startles the white-breasted nuthatch from sleep, 
so she flies along icy Batten Kill 
where Ophelia, wearing tattered dress, 
floats face upward toward the empty sky, 
clutching parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme. 

Wiping dust from glass of the picture frame 
that displays last photograph of her daughter 
posing in her blue Cinderella dress 
for Halloween, heart long numb from despair, 
Catherine whispers to her ghost lingering near 
if she is happy skipping rope in Heaven.