"Songs for My
Mother"
by Paloma
OCTOBER
Today, the
leaves have drunk all
the year's sunsets,
orange-red
down their throats.
Ribbons of twilight
are tied in the
flecks of her eyes.
The chill of an early
morning ,
in autumn,
has broken me,
left me anxious,
heartsick ,
simply wanting her.
Is this how you felt
about Dad
when you first met
him, Ma?
APRIL
If I could crawl into
your womb, where
the dark sings me
lullabies,
there I would be.
The night waves her
face , back and forth, across the glass,
like mean children
teasing
a chained dog.
Someone was stirring
their coffee today.
The tinkling of the
spoon
made me shudder:
I thought I heard her
call my name.
Is this how you felt
when Dad died, Ma?
SEPTEMBER
Wish I could have
told you, Ma,
that I loved you.
More times than
necessary.
Dedicated to Mothers
and Sons,
a bond that Time can
never break.