Elvis stopped, twice; grinning sidelong
That toothy, twinkling, contagious smile,
Then continued on. “Unchained Melody.”
That night he held the world in his arms and squeezed.
“I need your love, I need your love.”
Six Tuesdays later he was still squeezing,
But on Wednesday I got up, and Elvis did not.
We should remember our mothers.
We should sing for them while we can.
(Note: This poem is a loose imitation of “The Mower” by Phillip Larkin.)