It is true: I am what’s left of you mother,
The heather and the fields, the blooms
Dusting their scent onto June
Whilst the earth sleeps.
Lessens the pace of the wind to a feather
A thumb-print of your skin,
That seems -deliberate in measure,
And forces me to take a double breath.
What did you think
Comments
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I see of course the traditional meaning, we are after all our parents...in some measure. But I see this more about nature, mother being, "mother nature" and "what's left" being the fields and hills, etc. Yet, I see it deeper, as some semblence of a metaphysical existence, maybe combinging nature with humanity...thus showing the transitory nature of man...a mere thumb-print.
This is good, I mean, I really like this one.
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Is your mum Ok? This sounds so ominous... Good to see you writing again!
The art of is exquisite. So pensive; gentle, like the preparation for a jump into a cold sea... -
Poet
A potrait of deep thought and love. bUt such a sweet measure of you both it seems. Excellent . And the picture of you pondering these words is clearly seen.
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