Louisiana Iris Black Gamecock. Known as a goddess in ancient Greece, Iris is the divine messenger soothing grief by sustaining the rainbow bridge between heaven and earth.
Everyone said: I was your favorite
      We looked exactly alike

Winters, I was your Oochie, Mariooch
Summers, your Huckleberry girl

Elected to get money from you
      for ice cream
I’d bat my eyelashes
      to open your change purse
You’d take out a dime,
      the whole time smiling
 
Hazelton winters, you’d play golf
      with Gigi, Murphy, Mike
tracking your golf ball oranges
      over snow-crusted greens
  
Long Beach Beach Haven summers
      you’d walk and walk
to the lighthouse and back
      simple man, few needs
 
while we’d scatter and pick
      through the huckleberry patch
Mother held the bucket
      We filled the cups
 
Home from the wars in Germany, Algiers
      you married the girl you’d met blind
made a home for her, her mother,
      four daughters, son

You worked in New Jersey through the week
      setting lead, driving linotype
Weekends you’d come back to us and
      Jackie Gleason, Mario Lanza, Bonanza
Saturday nights I’d be rubbing your head
      helping your hair grow back
 
Then you worked the presses
      night shifts in Wilkes-Barre
 driving down ungodly 309
      down Ashley Mountain
past slag heaps always on fire, the
      caved-in road’s pavement collapsing
 
Born December 24, Natale
      family was everything
Theresa at 14 raising the rest of you —
      you and Fran, Evelyn
      Rex, Ponzi, Karl
      Vinnie, Johnnie, Mish
 
You walked and walked
      until you couldn’t walk
to the double house daily
      to see Fran and Theresa
  
Daddy, I hope you’re walking now
from green to luscious green
get in another 36
arc your orange balls
into the pale blue air
make a hole in one
an eagle.

— by Lisa Sarasohn (based on conversation with Mary Rose)