Pallbearer on the Left
They took her leg
a few years before she died,
but the phantom pain
was with her to the end.
With her 800 mg of Vicodin
every four hours,
she was unfortunately,
understandably unpleasant,
but my kids loved
their Great Mable
none-the-less.
When she moved from Florida
into my parents’ house,
we flew down on Friday morning,
rented the U-Haul,
and started packing up her house.
She and Grandpa bought it
in 1972 for 20 Gs.
When she sold it thirty years later,
she made half a million.
Island life after all.
We loaded up shoe-boxes
full of spools of thread,
shoe-boxes full of spoons,
shoe-boxes full of shoes.
“Can we just bring the right ones
to save space?” I asked.
Dad was offended,
but Mable chuckled quietly
in her wheelchair.
Later, as a pallbearer,
I chose the left side of her coffin.
Without the left leg,
it would be lighter, I assumed.
“No,” mom said,
“The leg is in there too.”
The joke was dark
but fitting.
©2022 Andre F. Peltier All rights reserved.
Andre F. Peltier is a Lecturer III at Eastern Michigan University where he teaches literature and writing. He lives in Ypsilanti, MI, with his wife and children. His poetry has recently appeared in various publications like CP Quarterly, Lothlorien Poetry Journal, Version 9 Magazine, About Place, Novus Review, Wingless Dreamer, and Fahmidan Journal, and most recently he has had a poem accepted by Lavender and Lime Literary. In his free time, he obsesses over soccer and comic books.
Twitter: @aandrefpeltier
Cajun Mutt Press 
The poem has a flow suitable for the narrative it conveys. The characters that people the poem are made as real to me as if they were my own relatives. Emotional content runs the gamut which is good, as there’s too many ‘one-note’ poems out there it seems. So again, good on you. I can feel it and I appreciate the dark humor in the end.
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