Karen Saunders
poetry
Karen Saunders is enamored of both words and the human experience. She hopes to put this fandom to good use in the documentation of lived moments that speak to something larger than themselves. Her other loves include her three sons, her three tuxedo cats, peonies, Halloween, Soviet absurdist literature, summer thunderstorms, deep purple, live music (all genres), Barcelona, and meaningful conversations.
At the Memory Home
Today the preschoolers bring paper flowers
giggled into the world with scissors
and glue. My mother eyes a rainbow daisy,
strikes up small talk with the artist,
gets the goods. Once upon a time
she hated trinkets like this. Legions of crayoned
families marched through the house
to the kitchen trash. Our naked fridge yearned.
This new craving suits her like washed skin.
She sidles from child to child until her collection
crescendoes at a bouquet that will never wilt,
until she is baffled by joy.
“ I plan to include this piece in a chapbook on aging, caregiving, and family relationships, informed by my role as a partner to my mother as she experiences dementia. I’ve discovered that even sweet, light moments like the one captured here are richer and weightier when contemplated in the context of a mother-daughter relationship.”
Listen: