it’s late in May
the lazy afternoon
coaxes me to go shopping
it seems like I need some repair lotions
or an excuse to mask my loneliness
on my way
it’s hard not to think of my mom
after her diagnosis
how much I want her
to see
with her own eyes
what I will become
the bus smells of old bread
and summer sweat
a memory of tunnels
stuffed with human suffering
while hiding
from the strikes
dislocated
she had to squeeze life
out of barren fields
bleak skies
I don’t know what to call it
resilience
or strokes of luck
the power that made her rise
and rise
through the ashes
and build a safe home
for us
Photo by Ihor Malytskyi on Unsplash
Wonderful poet, Sarwa ‘s poem is moving and touching, full of beauty and honesty, thank you Sarwa for your bing