i am three
before the acid rain of life
and mum is mum
in the way i needed her most
and now in the cold days
there are these moments
remembrances of affection
like echoes that have
found their way home
threadbare and almost silent
but still yearning absent-mindedly
for a thing that feels long lost
like a sudden warmth come over you
while passing through the chill
or that unique fragrance of lilac
mixed with cold cigarette smoke
carried like a cloak in her wake
you thought was forgotten
now the ghost of all you have left

these small unintentional gifts
these accidental offerings
a nose nuzzled into neck’s nape
an arm wrapped carelessly around you
holding you on one hip, these things
descend like manna in the desert
as you wonder –
do i still wander toward a promised land
a fairy tale myth barely believed
but held onto like a broken barrel
in a night of stormy seas…
dreams you come to live for