Mother


Losing it,
Losing you, 

Me too
God. 

I expect You
to occupy my shoulder.
Sit there God
like a levitating Yogi
and  recite me a psalm.

The one about the prophet changing Holy fire
to Holy calm. 

These days her palms
are white Cold.

Blood leaves the extremities
like losing a friend, 

Mother. 

Stay alive.
Send the cancer away.
Tell God you haven’t seen the Eiffel Tower,
Trafalgar Square. 

Your unborn, unconceived grandaughter or son. 

Time runs us too late
With every setting sun. 

I’m losing it.
Losing you. 

Your necklace
still smells
of 70’s perfume. 

And though you must go. 

All you are stays. 

I inherit you. 

And so these last
and farewell days
I hold you.
Kiss you.
Love you
as your little girl and the woman,  you are glad to call daughter. 

There is no losing
now only
letting go.

Giving praise for your life and the life you breathed into me.

Meanwhile, the levitating yogi God sings of everlasting love.

He’s our chaperone.
I close my lips
preventing speech.

We take his arm,
his lead. 

Escorted to the threshold
where you turn and say nothing.

Leaving with one of your smiles.

Mother, I love you.
Mother, please stay. 

She is gone
And I wave her off,
on her way.

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