Her Beads
This time around,
The drizzling cold waters of the sky
Washed the slumber sleep I laid upon
Warm navy blue blanket gifted by my mother
Covered this body head to toe
Refusing to hear the horns of busy roads
Right under
And the squeeks of the railways tracks
Running around in circles
across this island every five minutes
I try to turn deaf to
I've always had company
Alone on the bed never was for me
The ache on my left neck turned my body
Towards a warm body seated right next to me
With her glasses on staring down
Of which I pretended with eyes closed
Mother's beads of Mary hung from her frail fingers
Jesus was always kept busy each morning
'Peace it gives me' she used to say
Quiet mornings spent with her string of beads
I miss that
By Jessica John Posko
Comments
Post a Comment