The Dawn Mother Left Comments

A week ago the old fat house-lizard, mother’s chat pal, was found lying blue behind her closet. In her grief mother buried it near a clay pot. Poor mother. She now had no living creature to talk to. I should have been there instead of being so muddled at work that it was too late at night to greet her.
Occasionally I caught her nattering with the lovely moon.

One dawn a star took leave to the earth, leaving a misty cloud heavy with traces. For a while mother’s sunken eyes were stared at me. I was startled. Princess...princess... princess..., ” her rigid voice ripped the debris of dreams as if she could no longer stand the world; all the while sealing my too undoubtedly regretful tears for death. The spattering flames under the boiling water and a pair of cups were the last witnesses. Mother never drank it. Her treasured rocking chair was getting older now with no occupant save a bleeding heart and the sheer prudence of an army widow.
...
Read full text