the sunday call

on the phone
you could never
tell your mother everything
when she asked
so what's new, how's
it going.
in fact you left out
enormous loads
of detail, tossing out
words like great
and fine, seguing
off into the weather,
or sports, which one
of her fish died.
she'd ask you how
stacy was, a girl
you dated in the 90's.
sometimes she'd tell
you what she ate for
dinner. then you'd
tell her what you ate
for dinner. but
you could no longer
trust her
with important issues.
swearing her to secrecy
with something
about your life,
was like telling
a pilot to write it
in the sky
with the smoky
plume of his plane.
so you kept it simple.
it was a good truce
you both had as the end
approached.