Roadside Mothers

My sister Julie loved the Virgin Mary, and when she was in her treatments, she was always visible. When Julie passed away, she had her funeral planned out. The most interesting part was the full blown Rosary. As I was watching the Rosary,I had a vision of Mary hovering over her casket. I sketched it that night. The poem roadside mothers was dedicated to mother, I know she prays for all of us children.






ROADSIDE MOTHERS

Halfway buried in warm sod.

Bathing in Bluegrass and Marigolds.

Reaching forward, with Concrete hands.

Visions of Angie embalmed in faded porcelain.

Painted baby Blue, empcompassed in cast Iron.

Tossing out visions of miracles.

Driving by Mary Daily.

She talks to me in cryptic code.

Mother with my Mary, praying in unison.

Their graceful backs facing the Tub.

Their faces dominating my psyche.

Blessing drivers and pedestrians.

Cloaked arms, casting no judgement.

Wight extensions of God.

Tony Moulds