She Knew

This poem was written about my mother-in-law.  She treated me and my sister-in-law to a trip to the South of France after her cancer was in remission.

She Knew

In her cool Merino wool slacks
She knew

Buy it she smiled with glee
and so the gracious mahogany breakfront

sat before us

Lonely in the corner

dusty, its rounded glass doors peering at us

like eyes through sunglasses

She knew

Buy it she said,

and the translator we hired

to guide us through Arles

negotiated with the elegant owner

of the antique store on the River Rhone

Buy it she said
and she waved her hand

at all the ways I could think

why it was an impossible purchase,

fretting over the logistics of a France to USA shipment

Buy it she said
And I did.

And we toasted the acquisition
over rose wine in fine crystal

back at the home of the translator

Who understood.

Buy it she said
And she knew

That nine months later she would be gone
leaving us to celebrate life
dinner after dinner
year after year
generation after generation
with laughter and love
along with the

lonely
dusty
once-forgotten
breakfront.

She knew.