Under the Moon in Bradenton, Florida
Is it possible to feel connected with someone who is deceased? She gave birth to me as a teenager, and was murdered by a drunk driver, still a teenager. I met her family and her memories in my thirties. She has, by some mystery, been with me all along. R.I.P. Kim Hobbs (1962–1981)
I found your ghost
among your family and friends
in Bradenton
I’ve never felt so close
to a story already at book’s end,
and I thought of you when:
I drove past a crime scene with one who had departed like you
In a city full of addiction and grief, it was the drunk who killed him too
I stood with my toes in the beach sand at midnight, in the park
In a photoshopped city of beauty, you were dwelling in the dark
playing your Zeppelin tune
under the Bradenton moon
I felt your free spirit in every
sharks tooth necklace
song during breakfast
stroll on the beach
chance just out of reach
Your presence dwells in the artwork in downtown Bradenton
Though you’ve lovingly haunted me here in Michigan
In life and death, you’re where I’m at, and where I’ve been
In grief, in glee, in the stars, in the trees, and in my heart again
You were always and never my mom
Always never there for me, always looking on
You left me but never left me, I know you’re looking at your son
On the streets, under the moon, in Bradenton
If you enjoyed this poem, you may also enjoy Luke Savage’s ‘My Life, My Death’ — available in paperback and digital here
