Lids Poem by Ted L Glines

Lids
by Ted L Glines

Must hug Mom
eighty-two years young
I must find
the time.

Ah
peanut butter sandwich
tasty before bed
close the bread bag
nice tight knot
and the peanut butter jar
screw that lid down tight.

Um
pillow so soft
warm drifty feeling
what's that picture?
Mom?
it's Mom
in a mirror
me
wrinkled cheeks framed in
white silver hair
and my hands tremble
going to the kitchen
slowly
legs and hips too weak for this
don't get around so good
any more
why is it so far?
hungry
make some toast
but
fingers pick in vain
the bread bag is tied
too tight
so hungry
maybe just spoon some
peanut butter
but
can't open the lid
hands too old and weak
so hungry
crying.

Sweating
sit up in bed
hands shaking
a bad dream about
something
old and weak
frail and hungry
crying
something important
can't quite remember
just a bad dream
must have been the
peanut butter sandwich.