the last misgivings

♪a post-apronsongs letter to my mother♪

“No matter your age, you always need your mom.”
—Anonymous

dear mAmA:

please tarry with me past my dread tomorrow
for painful hears my heart your faint voice call
do not withdraw from me the wherewithal
an extra breath from life to beg or borrow

i’ve loved you since your breasts became my ocean
of milk and warmth and hope and sustenance
little knew i that changing circumstance
could not threadbare your resolute devotion

how oft you've been that shoulder i have cried on
when trifling with the lion’s vicious mouth
i’ve dared the spiteful snares of reckless youth
to tremble on dark rocks i might have died on!

o mAmA, mAmA, tell me not you're leaving
is this the time the world must kneel and cry
the mountains tremble and the oceans sigh
where must i, then, find refuge for my grieving

o mAmA, mAmA, though your years be golden
you ember even in the darkest night
you kindle all our dreams to win the fight
for rights and justice yet from us withholden

o mAmA, mAmA, dense the age of reason
that stuns the world with an unseasoned rage
if you must go, how shall i grief assuage
to mend men's hearts, ere come the reaping season?

—to mAmA with love

© Copyright 2020 August 01
by Clyve A. Bowen♫