Forgotten Mother

A beautiful well woven summer hat,

with a large black ribbon and bow circled,

leaning against the porch, shoes on the mat,

stood a lonely statue of gloss marble.

She stood an inch away from the dead sun,

her stone dress, solid wave, watched from far,

with pale eyes, seeing what could not one,

from the shade of the umbrella, bonsoir.

As the overgrown grass crowded her feet,

and as the house behind her creaked and moaned,

she sang a silent song to which they sleep,

and children had snored as the stars shone.

As night came and put all to bed, time slowed,

and left again, the loneliness had grown.