Mother’s Passing

Mother’s Passing

Some moments,

they are made to last.

While others come

to find their way,

but always seem to pass.

We contemplate the passing

while we hear your children

 call your name.

And then, as each to each you go,

to give last reference

to a fame you still deny,

we stand untethered to the thought

of futures dimming into night.

This is the last day’s light we’ll see with you.

Despite our efforts to dismiss

the things we know we’ll have to do,

we cannot contemplate this change.

And though some things will still go on;

as beds are made in morning light

and voices call to soothe some pain,

there is rejection that the dawn

could rise without your spoken name.


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