Deluding in heavenly, empty sorrow

sweet tools brought against his summer skin

smiling and saying, 'why don't you try again?'

my sleepless eyes have no reply

he laughs and cries

the poor boys of mothers too young

i lie his head in my lap and sing him songs of dead flowers

he lulls and sings a long just like he was meant to

years later in the meaningless countryside

his head is hanging outside the doorframe

fresh flowers gripped tight in his hands

the scars that lace across is sunlit face

swallow me up in fear

'momma i lived long ago

for the sad children following you every step

happy to be ladened with kisses from your lips

but now i'd like to say


i ran to him but he walked away

the flower petals trailing in his wake

there are gentle treads in Eden now i do believe

from the sad whimperings of his path

my sleepless nights are still soundless

but my hand rests on the photographs

of the past