Some Places Have Changed Since You Left, Some Have Not
              for Mom

The pie shop where you and Aunt Alice
would go when she came for sleepovers, where
the waitress once looked at you two
and asked:  Twins? –  it’s become
a Corner Bakery;
and your beloved department store
where we always shopped for sales
is now a SuperTarget.
The jewelry store where you worked part-time
all those years so tired from hours of standing,
has gone out of business,
though on the same street
your neighborhood grocery still goes strong,
where we’d go to fill your cart with
Annie’s frozen dinners and raspberry Sobe water,
cantaloupe in season, and the rice pudding you loved–
you sprinkled it with cinnamon
the way your mother, my Yaya, would do,
all those evenings in your living room
when I’d sleep over, what was my nest for decades–
it’s inhabited by another family now;
sometimes I drive by, even park my car
to gaze, then close my eyes where
from the inside I hear you calling.

Storefront Corner Bakery by Terrence Faircloth via Flickr