hubert and oskar

you did not grow

in my womb

little frogs

born of lovemaking.

i did not feel the flutter

of your being.

when you were born

cut open

on the operating table.

no heady rush

no gush into open arms.

i met you 

sullen, heartbroken

defiant turn of chin,

children half-grown.

so vulnerable

so completely lovable.

i did not birth you

but i held you in my arms

we spoke of secrets

thoughts you were afraid to say.

my best friends

my little heart's joy.

i have a mother's heart

and it yearns for you.

the smell of your hair

those awkward limbs

my boy-men growing strong

my brave saplings.

when you are men grown

remember that i loved

every part of your souls.

the memories

that make me weep

of hands i used to hold.

then i shall be old

i will have no claim

over your lives

'my father's wife'

or something more.

something less.

always here,

the girl who danced

with the boy in the dress.

and kicked a ball

and wiped the tears

explained the world

showed you all.

gave my heart

to keep yours whole.

Reviews

[W.k.kortas]

So visual, so elegantly turned out. It is, to my way of thinking, the deifinitve mother-yet-not-Mother piece. Utterly arresting.