Friday, April 22, 2011

Non-Mother's Day Poem


It rolls around, a pebble in my shoe.
That tiny small ache that reminds me of you.

Ah sweet scent, the smell of your perfume
I have bought some to wear in my hair.
I hear the song that caused you to dance
Vibrations of movement traipse through the floor

Ice cubes tinkle in your glass,
accentuating the rhythm of the twang and hwa of a slide guitar.

The air carries warmth, sun-dappled flowers and dirt,
green and trees, life and worms and love and sweat.

And again, this year, you are not here
New life, old life, new world just bursting forth.

Oh mother, dear mother, oh mother o’ mine.
Say a prayer for all of us, the ones you left behind.




*Yes, that is a picture of my mother who died many years ago.
I think I look a bit like her. Do you agree?

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