My mother passed away in November, we still do not know why. She was sadly estranged from her family at the end of her life. She was in a lot of pain emotionally and physically, but now she is at peace. This poem I wrote through tears, as I tried to recall memories buried deep in the far recesses of my mind. This is my poem for her. This is my goodbye.


Your pink scarf will remain stuffed

into the hessian bag for life that hangs

in the hallway of my new house;

where you never had the chance

to hang that awful leather jacket,

you were too old to wear.

It stings as I look back.

I remember bouncing on your knee,

‘Horsey horsey don’t you stop.’

I can see you kneeling in the garden,

yanking weeds from the flower beds.

I can see you in stonewashed jeans,

your hair tied in a ponytail,

wearing gardening gloves,

your face covered in mud.

I think about you laughing mischievously,

as I recounted stories of

your grandchildren to

you and Nan over the phone.

You missed Christmas. The children

were so happy, filled with life;

just as they were as they rode

your back down the stairs.

What happened to your dissonant singing?

What happened to your temper?

Like that of an enraged elephant.

Mum, what was the trigger?

Was it when you lost Granddad?

I will never pretend to understand

why you did the things that you did.

I will never pretend to understand

how your fight waned away.

I will never pretend to understand

how the drink took hold of you.

I think of you now, at peace.

I think of you now, free from pain.




3 thoughts on “Mum

  1. Thanks prewitt1970 and Cindy Baker. I appreciate your kind words, I am pleased to have struck a chord, or touched you like this. I try to think every cloud has a silver lining, and if I can tap into my pain and create something beautiful then she would have been very proud of me.

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