i am thinking of mother
mother who loved
mother who lived lonely in the world
mother who never hung on to us
how could she not hang on to us
thank god she would not

i miss mother more on the evenings
but i am a quiet wall made of old stone
and the feelings fall like crumbling mortor
to the hiding welcoming ground
for future archeologists to decipher

“ahhh these are words of loss”

mother is a ghost who lives in my thoughts
she clanks about on cold nights that portend winter
she whispers and chuckles and haunts happily

“i told you i told you i told you i told you”
“i love you i love you i love you i love you”
“but”
“i told you i told you i told you i told you”

she did and she does and she laughs and she loves