The Mother Poem by Vani Agarwal

She silently washed a single plate,
she didn't know what time it was, let alone the date.
She finished her chores and fixed her hair,
for sometimes material pleasures helped fighting internal despair.
She was accustomed to doing it, nights passed this way like years,
and she had mastered the way of smiling that held back her tears.
She couldn't guess whether her wrinkles were born of worry or age,
she seemed to move but felt trapped in terror's cage.
She stopped keeping his pictures because it became hard,
and watching news was a big no-no as all that remained was just a sharp shard.
But sunset was always good for, it closened hearing him,
and her heart would become still, that was now falling off the rim.
Waiting, for he would call soon,
but little did she know, her brave soldier had given up in the light of the Moon.