"Photograph" by Sheila Wellehan

Photograph

The cast iron bathtub is trashed
in an unruly meadow.
Honeysuckle hugs the old tub,
it’s encircled by bittersweet.
The tub holds a body —
she looks dead, with her hands piously
crossed on her chest and her eyes closed.
But it’s not a corpse, it’s my mother.
Mom was pretending,
pretending to be dead.

She was posing for her friend’s camera.
Mom always had a dramatic streak.
I know it wouldn’t have made
any difference, but when I found the photo,
I thought, Mom, why did you tempt fate?
I wonder what she thought about,
acting the role of the dead body.
She looks so peaceful in the photograph,
not the way she looked
when she really died.

I wish her friend had taken a photo
of my mother breaking her death pose.
Laughing, then hauling herself out
of the grimy tub. I want to see her
brushing dirt off her clothes,
pulling leaves out of her hair,
then flashing her big smile — alive
What’s it really like to be dead, Mom?
If you pretend hard enough,
can you come back?

Sheila Wellehan

Sheila Wellehan’s poetry is featured in On the Seawall, Psaltery & Lyre, Rust & Moth, Tinderbox Poetry Journal, Whale Road Review, and many other publications. She’s served as an assistant poetry editor for The Night Heron Barks and an associate editor for Ran Off With the Star Bassoon. Sheila lives in Cape Elizabeth, Maine. You can read her work at www.sheilawellehan.com .

Headshot: Shauna Damboise

Photo Credit: Staff