Iron grey her hair
this woman who bore me
laboured for her family.
Cleaning for the rich
she bought us clothes and sweets;
dad's shift work strained her
debt and death lined her face.
I retain her uncertainties
closely. proudly.
her generosity never failed;
separated by death
we share the moon
on cloudless nights
above our northern city.
?si=esjqDdCmQAz4mo-z
Wed 19th Jun 2024 08:37
A wonderful poem, John, a truly lovely tribute! 🌷
John,
Thank you for sharing this. There are few in life we can extol the virtues of, but a mother is often our first recourse. It is a relationship, a bond which reaches the depths of intimacy and love.
Thank you indeed,
Keith
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Stephen Atkinson
Wed 19th Jun 2024 23:07
separated by death
we share the moon
on cloudless nights
above our northern city.
I love that, John. Wonderful writing, as aways