In Memory Of My Mother

I do not think of you lying in the wet clay
Of a Monaghan graveyard; I see
You walking down a lane among the poplars
On your way to the station, or happily

Going to second Mass on a summer Sunday -
You meet me and you say:
'Don't forget to see about the cattle - '
Among your earthiest words the angels stray.

And I think of you walking along a headland
Of green oats in June,
So full of repose, so rich with life -
And I see us meeting at the end of a town

On a fair day by accident, after
The bargains are all made and we can walk
Together through the shops and stalls and markets
Free in the oriental streets of thought.

O you are not lying in the wet clay,
For it is a harvest evening now and we
Are piling up the ricks against the moonlight
And you smile up at us - eternally.

by Patrick Kavanagh

Comments (20)

That is so loving and beautiful, evoking memories love and loss with a refusal to accept extinction of our loved ones.
I know how it feels
Great tribute to your mother, Now when you are with her again I am sure she must be proud of you as a son.
How beautifully put, just as I think of my Mummy, ever present in my heart and life.
I know when my god mama passed I lossed it but she is in a better place
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