'Oh, we like that!'�
Mom would say.
The collective we that encompassed
her and I. Encompassed everything
in my youth.
I would ride the bus to meet her
on a street corner. Downtown.
Nervously looking out the window
to see if she was waiting for
me. As she promised.
She would wear a bright red
coat and a hat of white marabou fur
so she stood out.
So I could see her from a distance.
When I saw the coat and hat
I would relax and lean back
against the cold green bus seat
and smile. I was happy with life
then. Mom on the corner in
her red coat and white hat. Waiting,
as promised, to hold my hand
and walk me somewhere and
tell me:
'Oh, we like that!'�

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