missing your mother

a few years in

is like

walking around the edge

of a large pit in the ground

the more you look at it

how deep and dark and unending

the more likely you will

fall in

you remember what it was like

down there

the raw ceaseless howling

and you have no wish to return

still, you walk

round and round

where there’s light and green grass

but you can never stray too far

from that edge

sometimes

the darkness finds you acutely

and you look

and see how much you’ve lost

how many times you desperately

needed her

and what her loss has cost you

and how it is only her

who would ever understand

and you’d give anything for

fifteen more minutes

but there’s nothing to do

but walk

round and round the edge

and try

to raise your chin

as she would have

in her two hands

to the sky

 

 

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