Bottled Song

by Doris Kerns Quinn

My mother sang—
a melancholy sound—
tears
in a narrow
dark green bottle

Emotions
filling up
that the cork
of self-control
would always throttle

Songs of longing
of rose-covered gardens
of disappointed love
of unmerited pardons

Songs of twilight
falling
and of clear skies
that clouds too soon
would mottle

A melancholy sound
when Mother sang—
tears
in a narrow
dark green bottle.

—published in The Oregonian, date unknown