Someday my mother will not awaken from her sleep. I will not be there to hear her
cough through the night and pass judgment upon this world with a curse of breath.
I will be asleep in my own bed, dreaming of her and me and the days in the garden
that once was. I will be struck dumb of heart when she dies. I will turn to my side
and shudder in the darkness. My daughter will attend the funeral and be there in
her black dress when the grave receives her grandmother. She will monitor my
responses and judge this passing of grief for future reference. She will observe and
memorize this transference, questioning its significance. I will not be able to see
her through me. I will be the old one who will cough in the night and reach for
flattened sheets while my daughter lies in her bed dreaming.

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"The Lesson" was originally published in Hurricane Alice.
 

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Karen Foster writes poetry, fiction, and plays. Her poems have been published in Fireweed, Rocky Mountain Review of Language and Literature, The New York Quarterly, Redneck Review among others. Her short stories have been published in Briar Cliff Review, The Reader, and Big Ugly Review. Her most recent play, "The Lie of the Body," has been performed at the Millennium Theatre in Omaha, NE. At present Karen is an assistant professor of English at Dickinson State University in North Dakota.
 

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