Laughter, The Saviour

My mother, who has been a widow for a year now,
can’t remember because of old age. She is mad
about that because, “it is so annoying,” she whines.
I have never been able to remember at any age.

“You have to help me,” I say, “Remember
where we parked, level three, on the right hand
side, in the corner.” We both become silent
for a while, imprinting it on our minds, but
when we return, three hours later, we still
get out on the wrong floor. We joke about that.
We talk to the people on the elevator about
how we goofed again. We all giggle until it brings
tears to our eyes. “We’re so lost,” we say.

“I can get lost in my own house,” my mother claims
as if it was something to brag about. She is
laughing when she says it. Now I know we have
to find a washroom before we can drive.

“I like your turle brooch,” a lady says to me,
and we all break into hysterical laughter.
Sometimes it seems like that’s all you can do
to deal with it all, break loose and explode.
Laughter works every time. Now we’re home
and at the moment, we don’t feel very lost at all.
That’s in the past some time, we can’t
quite remember when.

~ Jo-Ann Godfrey

Jo-Ann Godfrey is a Canadian citizen but she was born and raised in Copenhagen, Denmark, and educated at the University of Alberta. Her poetry has been published in
TickleAce, Pottersfield Portfolio, Zygote, The Amethyst Review and others. She has been part of the Stroll of Poets Society since 1994, served on the board as vice-president and as a sales representative for the anthology. Presently she is trying to find a home for her poetry collection entitled, “From Beyond The Mood Wheel.”

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