Aware

While we were holding hands waiting for your death
I heard someone playing
the accordion in the hallway.

The new arrival in the home,
she used to live in our street,
she played sad and beautiful,
did you hear it too?

Like how ‘t was played
when we lived next to the café,
every Saturday they did, so festive.

Well, you never liked music much.
I think you wouldn’t have appreciated the moment.
But I did.
My last memory of you, and there was music, mama. ‘t Was right there.

While the funeral started, the Sun broke out
through the grey skies, and rays
of warm golden light shone over us.

We all carried a white rose each,
that would join you in the grave
and it was almost festive,
did you notice too?

Like how you’d loved
your Winter birthdays to have been,
and so many people walked behind you.

Well, you never liked people much.
I think you wouldn’t have appreciated the moment.
But I did.
My last memory of you, and there were people, mama. Everywhere.

While your coffin slid into the grave, I felt
how you were glad the whole
thing was over so now you could rest.

The silence you needed, came then
with the rest you well deserved
and it was almost serene,
did you shiver then too?

Like how your life
should really have been, much more so.
And we were at peace together for once.

Well, I think you would have liked that.
And we both would have appreciated each other so.
But I did.
My last memory of you, and there was loving, mama. I’m aware.

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Comments on: "Aware" (10)

  1. Beautiful remembrance.

  2. Amazingly written, I love it!

  3. Thank you Ina. This is a deep reminder of the love my mother and I shared. And the lost I hold close to my heart.

  4. So moving, Ina…the repetition working so well…heartfelt but not overly sentimental which I feel is such a signature of your writing and makes it so strong, so effective!

  5. “Aware”, lament for mother by cognizant daughter…

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