On My Mother’s Death


All these years I have been swallowing my tears,
Drowning out my heart’s profound lament;
All these years I took your sorrow for my own,
Bore it all alone, wove it into bone and every cell;
I carried all your fear; I held it almost dear,
Yet always so unclear why I felt lost.
All these years, now that you are gone,
Turning into tears that can be shed;
All these tears, now that you have died
Washing clean the years and words unsaid.

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