For My Mother
Poem By Hugh Cobb
Seven years since your eyes
closed for the last time
Scrub clad in whites or greens,
they could not start your silent heart
though, oath-bound, they tried.
Finally, they let you go,
accepted your death.
Gone, you would not return
from that journey each must make alone.
I've sensed you since muted earth
rang upon your husk's metal house.
In dreams you've come & spoken to me:
solitary or with other family members
all dead like you. Our communication
seems clearer now than when we
shared our earthly bond.
My waking memory is not so vivid
as these dreams in whose confines
you are real to me again.
In night's silent cocoon,
I touch your face,
kiss your crinkled eyes,
& know once more your love:
your mothering touch
unsullied by the grave.
(rev.30 July 2005)