Poetry: Vanilla Eulogy by Thomas Zimmerman
I couldn’t write about them till they died.
Dad went so quickly, cancer eating years.
And Mom stayed way too long: dementia blacked
the windows of her soul. There were no deathbed
reconciliations. We had lived
and worn our conflicts and our contradictions
out. I love them but don’t miss them. They
have stayed, at least a version of them I
can swallow and digest. They made me, fed me,
taught me. I can see their faces in
my own, a pentimento glowing through
the grainy canvas of my face, old ghosts
that haunt my attic and my basement,
and my poems, footnotes to my life
Thomas Zimmerman teaches English, directs the Writing Center, and edits The Big Windows Review at Washtenaw Community College, in Ann Arbor, Michigan. Poems of his have appeared recently in The Beatnik Cowboy, Bombfire, and These Lines.