Monday, May 14, 2012

A Mother’s Voice


Sometimes
I can’t remember her voice.

Most of the time.

I strain my ears
into my memory,
reaching all the way back –
back 16 years.

Sometimes
I can hear her.
It’s faint, but it’s there.

I laugh with her,
seeing her eyes crinkle
and watching her throw her head back,
and I hear her voice get louder.

Loud, uproarious laughter;
the kind that makes your belly ache
and shake and quake.

It gets louder and wilder
nearer
until it comes running
and jumps
into my arms.

My boys’ laughter,
filling my ears.

Filling my heart.

A mother’s voice,
reflected back
in her grandchildren’s laughter.


OK, I’m getting off my shoebox now.

1 comment:

  1. This is so beautiful. Thanks for sharing your story, your poetry and your love.

    ReplyDelete