Mother’s Day 2017,
For Cindy, Marc, Karen, Bob, Jeff, Matt, David Ross, Sara, Sarah B,and all of my siblings in loss
When the unthinkable strikes,
The head and the heart are both emptied,
Just as, perhaps, for a mother, once the child is born,
The void’s moist. After her death, this small space
Grows irredeemingly larger. And so on this day,
Of mothers, I must mourn for my own. I’ve no choice.
I would like her to enter the room
And consider the changes within it.
I sense her fast disapproval, while also hoping
That she still understands, that the clatter of books
Is a kind of company for me, after five years separation
And the sadness of where we are now, all’s unplanned.
But to all of my friends who still retain
Their own mothers, I offer my celebration and urge you
To seek as much time with them as you can.
For when the space opens up and you have only one English day
To remind you, you will recognise that each moment
Calls for the child to cry madly before the lost sanity of her hands.
Illustration Nick Victor