Wednesday, January 28, 2009

Mommy will be there in just a minute

Down the hallway a young voice called my name
not my name really, but Mommy,
which is my name to him, all the same

I kept wiping the crumbs from the counter space
trying to hold on to my thoughts
there in kitchen's quiet place

Carried the trash to the back door
remembered there was mail still in the box
hoped he could wait a little more

On the driveway I walked slowly down
seeing shadows of ash trees
and stars that shined through and around

Across the street is my neighbor's house
his dear wife left us last week
there is no more mother, no more spouse

But a mother lives in my home still
and a little boy calling my name
guess I'll step in now, from tonight's evening chill

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