hello mama
his approach has been along the gravel path
beneath trees and open sky
by turns
he has meandered
to take in the old headstones
contrast them with newer trends
a dithering indirect approach
but at last he is here
the shirt is pink and creased
but at least clean
he has found his jacket
attempted a tie
although crooked
his face is more shaven than not
the posy of flowers
a vibrant array of bright colour
just as he remembers her to have been
when he was still small
hello mama
he is uncomfortable
not knowing if he should stand or sit
or even perhaps kneel
settles for a stoop
that turns into a sit
after he has found a small weed to pull
he is unaware in his awkwardness
of a cloaked figure
slowing for a moment
to watch him
before continuing on the path
to some personal destination
among the untroubled at their rest
it’s been a long time mama
and I’ve been lost
so so lost
his face wrinkles into creases
and tears start to fall
but now he is untroubled by them
knows he will shed a burden
believes this with all the faith
of one who has seen his first light
and knows that at last
there is a direction
as he speaks and weeps
his hand wanders
backwards and forwards
across the granite rubble atop the grave
letting the sound of stones
gently colliding against each other
punctuate his phrases
his admissions of weakness
and fall
tells of his bewilderment
at the cause
a fleeting episode that caught him so unawares
obsessed and almost drove him
to an oblivion
as the narrative progresses
the tears slow and stop
breathing comes easier
his hands are still shaking
but he knows he has passed some crucial point
hardly realises how much time has gone by
until a cool breeze
ruffles the back of his neck
to announce that it is already evening
goodbye mama
he pats the headstone
uncertainly
almost expecting a return warmth
finding only cold granite
still
it is enough
to form a connection
~