Two Mothers Two Daughters

Two Mothers Two Daughters

We reach the home.

Twilight deepens.

I promised to show up before

darkness.

You will not find

people you used to know.

My daughter talks of

friends, food, the weather,

about things she thinks you know.

If I tried to speak to you

would you listen

would you recognize a touch as a touch of love?

You have stopped mumbling.

As I drive over a bump

your frail body falls forward.

We have never been close.

Is it my death that makes me so short-tempered?

We have never been close.

Your frail body falls forward

as I drive over a bump.

You have stopped mumbling -

do you recognize my touch as a touch of love?

Would you listen

if I tried to speak to you

about things you once knew: