I HATE PATSY CLINE
 
I remember mama sitting at the old oak kitchen table
that granddad had given her when I was seven years old.
 
Oh, how happy she was, with an electrifying intensity
of delight in her eyes. Tears rolled down her
ruby flushed cheeks.
 
And out of the blue,
with an outlandish gestured
sweep of her arms,
she whisks out this bland old oilcloth
with a printed botany of green artichokes,
pearlier onions, and yellow orange carrots
and…
 
Thereafter, we never again saw the beautiful
golden grains
that striated the length of the tabletop.
 
She claimed it was for protection –
hummm.
 
She would sit for hours,
hands folded as if she were
praying to God above,
with a lukewarm cup
of yellow chamomile tea
and two burnt pieces of toast
spread with raspberry jam.
 
Patsy’s music assaulted the air,
the rooms, everywhere with
melodies of,
love just smitten,
love gone wrong,
and a broken heart
that needed mending.
 
Even the dog in the doghouse
across the yard
would give an occasional howl to the tunes.
 
Sometimes it was almost impossible
to do my homework,
and the music so grated on my nerves…
I had this capricious notion to
abort and head right out the door.
I hated Patsy Cline.
 
This was mama’s daily ritual,
around six o’clock,
put on the vinyl records and 
listen to Patsy wail 
waiting for dad to come home.
 
When he did arrive home,
mama, on the brink of tears
would hug him so hard 
glad that he had returned.
 
It was downright depressing,
and that is why I hated
Patsy Cline.
 
At seven years old,
I blamed Patsy for all of mama’s tears,
not really understanding
why mama really cried.
 
I though those sad, sad stories
that Patsy sang about,
was what made mama cry.
 
Later in my adult years
I knew why mama cried
those tears to Patsy Cline’s music-
for I now cry those same tears.
 
Instead of chamomile tea,
It’s beer
instead of toast and raspberry jam,
it’s remorse and sadness
and
Patsy Cline’s music
still
continues to assault
every room in my house.
 
And I still hate Patsy Cline.
 
 
Words Used:  electrifying outlandish bland
oilcloth botany artichokes lukewarm
yellow doghouse grated capricious listen brink