Loss

I miss you

Mum

Lost in your words of a childhood we could never know

Canyons of loss across a lifetime

War, your Mother, my Father,

The loss of romance and in the end

it all came down to

Words

I miss the feel of you

Your cheek soft as what?

I don’t know, but your skin was SO soft,

Your hands lean and elegant, skin smooth to touch,

You would have laughed at that, saying Oh No, the years of gardening, washing, laundry

But they were smooth when I held them

I miss your yearning for the other world

I miss your simple joy in the life in the gardens you inhabited

The lushness of that last garden at Booran rd.

Your need for a little shed and a seat

Wednesday nights when I had you to myself

I read your poems and am reduced to tears.

You thought you would never be good enough to write for anyone to read

But I read you Mum, I read you.