The night after my mother died

I wrote this poem one Mothers’ Day several years after my mum had died. Recently I lost Arch, aged three, in the supermarket for about five panic-striken minutes. That experience has brought me back to this poem, re-living it, this time as the mum.

The night after my  mother died
I lay in fear.
I am a child in a supermarket
Searching for my mum
Between the aisles.

There she is.

In the sleepless dark
I toss between the faith
She would never abandon me
And her breathless body
Growing cold
In my hands.

Comments: 3

  1. Anne Booth says:

    That is so sad.

  2. Anne Booth says:

    The poem you wrote is so deeply sad, and really touches that ever-present fear in us.I have been thinking about it since I read it and now I want to ask if that faith that she would never abandon you remained?

  3. Jo Ind says:

    That’s a very good question Anne. I need to think about the answer.
    What I can say is that even though it was sad at the time, I don’t feel sad about it any more.
    Do I still hold the faith my mum would never abandon me? I don’t feel abandoned. I feel held in a great cosmic love of which my mother’s love, whether she is here with me or not, is a part.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *