Glosa #3
Mother, be with me.
Today on your birthday
I am older than you were
When you died
by May Sarton, “August Third”
Today I made a plea – Mother, be with me,
not like you used to be, but transformed
into the mother I needed and wanted,
a mother who loved me whole-hearted.
Today on your birthday I remember
how disappointment haunted you,
how the things you wanted slipped
away and left you counting losses.
I am older now than you will
ever be. I’ve had time to heal
the bruises that came with loving
a mother worn thin by sadness.
When you died, I couldn’t grieve
you, couldn’t embrace your brokenness.
I wrapped and stored my memories,
delicate as bone china cups, until
I opened them today
on your birthday.
*
Peggy Liuzzi lives in Syracuse, NY where she walks her beagle Maizie, practices Tai Chi and finds community and support at the YMCA Downtown Writers Center. Peggy’s poems have appeared in Stone Canoe, Nine Mile Magazine, Slippery Elm Literary Journal, Gyroscope Review and other publications.
Beautiful poem. Such a tender lament and affirmation. Thank you.
Thanks so much, Gloria.
Uncanny coincidence with the subject of my own writing yesterday….beautiful and moving.