Conference
In a room with big windows,
In a room with big windows,
heavy,
brown drapes
pull
tight across glass,
glow at
the edges
where
light strains to enter.
The
speaker sways as if holding
a baby
he wants to soothe
while
my mind is in Canada
at a
park with my late husband,
watching
him push our daughter
in a
swing for babies.
Our son
runs back and forth
between
the big boy
swing
and hers.
In less
than two months,
he
would be dead,
her
father, his father.
Had he
lived, this scene
may
have been forgotten
in a
life filled with family
memories.
His death
preserved
the park as it was,
sun-dappled
fir, the drapes
wide
open, letting in the light.
--Melissa Madenski
Melissa Madenski's essays, poems and stories have appeared in regional and national periodicals and anthologies. She has taught workshops throughout the Northwest and in public and independent schools.
