This air is flooded with her. I am a boy again, and my mother
and I lie on wet grass, laughing. She startles, turns to
marigolds at my side, saying beautiful, and I can see the red
there is in them.
When she would fall into her thoughts, we'd look for what
distracted her from us.
My mother's gone again as suddenly as ever and, seven months
after the funeral, I go dancing. I am becoming grateful.
Breathing, thinking, marigolds.
This poem tells a beautiful, yet moving story. So much is expressed and revealed in so few words. Beautifully told.
..............I feel you will always think of your mother, when you see marigolds....beautiful poem..
My mother's gone again as suddenly as ever and, seven months after the funeral, I go dancing. I am becoming grateful. Breathing, thinking, marigolds....nice poetic expression.Beautiful poem. Thanks and congratulations for chosen as MPOTD.
Profound write about mother, motherly love and the spell it throws on an infant and it's life. Well deserving modern poem of the Dal
A tear of sadness swells reading this, but also hope, the loss of a parent is one of the hardest things to face, and Hamers words resonate completely, but with loss comes a lifetime of memories and souvenirs. Wonderful.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Grace is a boon indeed/nice way to pay tribute/I love your ideas...carry on....up to the.....