Fingering a dreary sky,
the skeletal wind rattles bare-boned arms,
outflung in laments of distress.
Sighs and echoes,
still wondering... Why?
With weighed down heart,
I carry my core of memories.
How I long to see songs in your eyes,
to know love is aglow and alive.
A bright flash of wings –
will there be songs to sing?
I struggle with feet dragging slow,
bent low in the snows of regret.
My footsteps advance, hesitate;
I know this is far too late.
The grave wears winter white.
The rain leaves droplets of tears.
My flowers spread petals of blood,
thicker than water, for you, my daughter,
lost to me, all these years.
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| Writing Prompt |
Pick an emotion and write a poem of any type. |
Author Notes
Author's Note:
This is not exactly personal; I do not have a daughter. I was imagining the regret a mother might feel if she were estranged from her daughter for many years, then found out she had died.
In reverse, the sentiment is based on my own mixed emotions on hearing my birth mother had died. I had met her only briefly in another country when I was 45 and, regrettably, formed no bond of connection with her. Nevertheless, she was my flesh-and-blood mother. We might have been close, given different circumstances. I do regret not knowing her better, and possibly she regretted giving up her baby for adoption.
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