Lamar Howell's Weblog

Orange,

they told us as children,

rhymes with nothing

But they were hiding the truth from us.

Orange rhymes with sorrow

My friend was in Room 206 at Harris HEB

Dying

She was ready, except for her will

A paralegal was at her side

Explaining papers through Madelon’s pain

I said I would come back tomorrow

With the fruit she desperately wanted.

Nothing rhymes with orange

Like  promises

I bought the orange

But it sat on my table for four days

Days I spent with my son

Fresh from the war in Iraq

I figured I would take the orange to Madelon on Monday

After my son was gone.

Nothing rhymes with orange like excuses

When I arrived at room 206 on Monday

She was gone

Transferred to hospice care

The social worker called to ask about her

I saw hope drain from his face

Nothing rhymes with orange like failure

I knew what he was going to say

My friend had died.

I stood there and tried to hide

the orange in the palm of my hand.

Now, so many of my emotions rhyme with orange.

The next time I eat one

I wonder what I will be thinking about.

I know I will never again see an orange

as simply an orange.