CARNATION - THE VARIABLE COLOUR OF HUMAN FLESH     Dedicated to my beloved mother, Yocheved Eva Novick of blessed memory       Between the hours of the wolf and the snake, In the midst of a dark, hot night, On the eve of Friday the 13th, August, 1982, I shivered.   Through the heat, humidity, dust and sweat, A cold, gossamer-like vapor filled the room. It appeared as a ghost; a flying skull-comet; a spiritual messenger from the Angel of Death.   I shivered.  I knew I was being forewarned. Breathe deep. Don’t get scared. Pay attention. Make sure you keep saying, “I love you;” like a mantra, over and over.   In the hot, summer night I shivered. The portentous message was clear. My mother was leaving.   There are lines, like ties, that bind. The Queen Streetcar is one of those lines. It carried me from my studio to my mother’s bed. Bindings tie one generation to another. Streetcar tracks transported my being to what was Left of my mother - her body, her image, her slow, dying breath.   Heeding the message of the cold vapor, I said, “I love you;” as tears spilled from my eyes. I said, “Thank you for my life and my big brown eyes”. I couldn’t say, “Good bye”. Just come back soon, strong, healthy.     ©2007 Honey Novick