how I miss her so
she told me I needed to go do
something before dinner
so I went to my room and prayed
she was my mother and
of course there was no room
but regardless I left the
premises and prayed
along the way I found interesting
things to pick up
but each piece I brought home
served no purpose
you should stick with praying
she said
and so I agreed
july two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
jdubqca 
Reblogged this on The DOWNGRADE Project.
thank you for reblogging my poem….
I miss my mother too, even though she’s sitting in the room with me now. I miss all the versions of her I’ve lost — especially the ones that let me be the little girl. But for today, at least, I’m the caretaker and gentle mother.
my mother is 81 years old and lives 90 miles from here….
Mine is 74, a thousand miles away, and an invalid. She has a caretaker, for now. But I doubt the nursing home will be far off.
My three siblings still live near her. I moved away to get married. š¦
my mother has left in her own way…
I pray she is in a good place . . .