A poem about the difficult relationship my sisters and I had with our controlling mother. This was written just before she had to move from her home and subsequently died
A poem about the difficult relationship my sisters and I had with our controlling mother. This was written just before she had to move from her home and subsequently died
Copyright:
Attribution Non-Commercial (BY-NC)
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A poem about the difficult relationship my sisters and I had with our controlling mother. This was written just before she had to move from her home and subsequently died
Copyright:
Attribution Non-Commercial (BY-NC)
Available Formats
Download as DOC, PDF, TXT or read online from Scribd
In all things with you. A smallness grown large And long lasting, beginning In a house spaceless and Encouraging of everything in its place.
And so it continued Becoming life itself With all of us in our place Tidied one by one Down through the years, Safe in our thinking Unable to see.
But, now we are watching
As slowly your smallness Grows so large you cease to be Our mother so neatly folded Into this hospital chair.
Sat fragile as a bird,
Waiting for God I can feel your beating heart Distanced from where I stand; Too close to touch, Too far to love, The talk too small.
Soon we will leave here
For that empty house And empty it still further Of the little that was us To make a final neatness And create an echoing largeness Filling black bags and boxes Of all that was you.