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 her birthday

 

children food the weather

 

about  things you would know.

 

If I tried to speak to you

 

would you understand  me?

 

Do you still recognize a touch of love?

 

Are you nodding off again?

 

You have stopped mumbling.

 

As we drive over a bump

 

your frail body falls forward.

 

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

 

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

 

Your frail body falls forward

 

as we drive over a bump.

 

You have stopped mumbling.

 

Are you nodding off again?

 

Do you still recognize a touch of love?

 

Would you understand me

 

if I tried to talk to you

 

about things you would know:

 

the children, food, the weather?

 

My daughter talks of her birthday

 

people you used to know.

 

You will not find

 

darkness.

 

I promised to show up before

 

twilight deepens.

 

We reach the home.