My Mother's House, by Linda Subscribe to rss feed for Linda


My mother died last year

My grief has not yet healed

Her last years were difficult 

The task of sorting her possessions
    was left to me

I sit in her kitchen

I look around with heavy heart

I begin the process

I pick up her scarves; they are
    soft and colorful

A sharp contrast to my mom

She was a complicated woman
    with simple needs

She had many fears that ruled 
    her life

She had many loves
    her church, her children, her husband

I walk through her house and slowly
    pick up items that she once held

Some must be discarded. I find that
     a painful thought

But I must remember: they aren't 
     part of her, they never were

Still, I feel that she is part of 
     them some how

I hold each piece in my hand, turn it 
     over and hold it close

I cannot finish this today

I'll come back tomorrow








Posted: 2011-04-11 20:52:05 UTC

This poem has no votes yet. To vote, you must be logged in.
To leave comments, you must be logged in.