Undelivered Letter

04 April, 2006
Dear Child
Away you went, I know I sent. Days melt in your memories and awakening nights in nightmares. Here I sit; looking at withering weather.
Darling child, you gave me everything: my happiness, my world, my life. Is it possible you could know I don’t have them? Vanished they, like water within my fist, when away you went.
A family you have, knitted responsibilities. Whereas a lonely mother I am. This loneliness, bedevilment, sitting in haunches watching me. From remote land I’m growing old every second.
Eighty I’m now.
My memories:
Poorly assembled, often jumbled
my eyes despise me
fumbling with words I stand
a lonely woman I live life
convincing death to visit me.

Oh dear child, dear child
You must be 57 now,
your troubling back,
and knees would sadden you.

Polished, father’s easy chair
could soothe your aching back.
Shouldn’t I first tell you,
the legend grand herbalist
promised cure to your knees.

Child, the house is lonely
I feel alien in native acreage
Come dear, come back to womb.

Ever loving mother always I.

Post Script: Darling child, I wish I write all this,
but unfortunate mother I am
who
never had a chance to get educated
but wait on a stranger
the someone
to write to you.