She drove me and Mom to Peabody
on that rainy cold March day
when Dad died.

She lights candles
for whoever needs prayer
among her loved ones and friends.

She once observed, The Gay Agenda
is really just Sunday brunch.

She once told me,
Don't let anyone pollute your gestalt
and Stay in the thick of your pack.

She saved me from myself last June
when I almost did something

reckless and stupid.

I texted her, I've had it, sister,

I'm through being an adult.

She answered, I'll see you

in twenty minutes,
and she scooped me up
from in back of my building,
and her and Debba and me,
we all went to Over the Border,

and enjoyed the chimichangas,

and I laughed with my friends,

and I kept it together.

She wrote the tenderest eulogy
to her late partner.
She posted it to Medium.
It is her open heart in paragraphs.

She's a top-flight wordsmith
and a loving mom,
and I have a slight crush
on her boots, especially when
she's standing in them.