Cary Briel

The Queen,
our Queen,
not Alice’s today,
seated,
and perched,
while Mom shoveled away
as she watched
and directed
lest a shovelful be missed.

It’s fairly certain,
I’d say, a CD needed change,
or she’d received a text,
or something else
“important,”
else why would she call
from warmth to Mom
to bitch
of her inconvenience.