The image of a boy
Bursting into tears
When its mother’s out of sight
Even for a split second
Crowds round the image of a man
Retreating to the rear
Of the family tree
Recoiling from every presence.
Every time the heart calls out to his mother
A woman appears
Of heavenly mercy
Not suckling the boy tucked away
In some remote corner of love
But smiling gracefully
Bewitchingly kindling
A new hope of comfort.
Whenever she waved to me
I called out her name
Called out loud my need to survive
In this bizarre macabre loneliness
With her love.
She waved and wavered and
She disappeared before the heart
Could fight its loneliness.
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