Poetry – Mother

I woke this morning with this poem in my head.

Mother

 

Slowly, circuitously she approached.

Her eyes fixed on him.

Not wanting to arrive.

Reaching his side she squatted and poked him with her finger.

He did not stir.

She picked him up and shook him

As if trying to wake him from a dream.

His head lolled.

It was no dream.

Already his body was cooling;

Giving its heat to the warm air.

A low moan escaped her lips.

She sat back on her haunches

Cradling him to her breast,

Into her fur,

As if the warm of her body

Might revitalise him.

Her vacant eyes stared.

She began to rock back and forth

Like a metronome.

Two hours passed.

She was still rocking.

 

Opher 6.9.2020

I'd like to hear from you...

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.