Poets Are Losing Their Mothers

Kris in Melbourne
Donall in London.
A mother in Ireland, visited
just before the last.
A mother from Alexandria,
settled in Dorset, and now
the son will wait
and visit siblings later.

Last year it was Tony
in Manchester, with all
those grieving haiku.
Neil in Austin, Texas
has written of it too.
Neil grew up in Canada;
I guess his Mum died there.
He didn’t say,
had deeper things to say.

Of course they write of this.
Some include photos:
slim, beautiful, young mother
smiling. When my Mum died
my cousin pressed on me
a photo of her old:
skeletal, crouched, forcing
a smile through pain.
Afterwards I tore it up.

There is nothing to say
that touches the death
of your mother. That is where
your life came from. That
is your source of body nurture
even if you weren’t wanted
(and most of us were). I
was never more confronted.


NaPoWriMo Day 4