MOTHERS Poem by Maria Barnas

She holds the tray like the rim of a languishing
world and slowly steps into the light
where she remains still in dark streaming contours

and pours tea. Her body silent amid the flowing.
I watch. She looks at me. Straight into an eye
that instantly withdraws. Shadows

flee over the house that retains me.
Treetops beckon in a wavering forest
with raging clouds above. There is calmness

that gathers as it grows dark and cold.
I wave like a departing mother.
She waves even faster.