Mother, It Is Spring

 
Rain is still falling
and we are cellmates
abandoned
in this false landscape
of the dead
now more alive than
the living
Lily, Stella, Paggie, chatter

 in my mother's world
where I must conform
to a stadium of strangers
that talked before my time

My mother's ears have broken
to my voice
Her eyes accept me as sister,
mother, friend
Our hearts sweep past
each other
in this dazed land
and I am waving
old love & promises
into the Spring air
that refuses new growth
to my finest flower