'AHHHHH, MAKE ME A CUP OF TEA!"

Here, in this living room
my mother lies

in her coffin.

Death, the uninvited guest
makes itself at home.

I sit beside her
as if in a play

not knowing
the next line

is mine...

In the cast list
I am her first

boy
I am

unable to cry
now

unable to believe
the realness

of this
reality.

Memory is unable
to hold her

she spills from my mind
like water

held in the hands.

My mind cuts
a cross section

through time

so that she is
here

in all her living
guises

little girl...young woman
mother.

I see her
as all she forever is

can ever be. . .

Tears drop
upon her

face
tears that can't

stop
as if now

she cries
for me.

I wipe my tears
from her face.

"Don't cry..."
I whisper into her hair

"I'll make you a cup of tea."

The clock
refuses to chime.

There is no time
left.