My mother, Musette

My mom lived at the bottom of the ocean in Glenside, PA
where ages ago fish would wiggle
through her beautiful hair & leave eggs there
before their bones became stones and relics and ruin.

Mommy sat and sorted the trees that populated the hills
of an ever-undulating neighborhood
where the one real choice was up or down
and the colors of the leaves flicked past her eyes like time.

Mom slept inside a cozy box constructed by her sons
who’ve loved her without knowing her ‘til then
and the dog she adopted barked at everything,
bringing back the joy and noise of all her men and boys.

My mommy lived at the bottom of the ocean
and when I called her on the phone
her ploy was to ask as a joke who I was.
“Yours,” I told her and told her again.