To Mum in Isolation

I am irredeemably sad tonight:

This nation held apart by blight,

A son whose only longing is to hold his mother tight

Cannot but fear

The months, the year

To come

On the phone we talk

And through the perk and pluck

The eulogies to Lady Luck

I hear the resonance of a solitude uncalled for,

The echoing absence of him

Your love, our shadow

The space for grief has shrivelled somehow

And yet could we need him more than now?

His sanguine sighs,

Benign resignation in his eyes,

With a half-smile to the stars

He’d say “We are where we are.”

And here, here is what I fear the most:

That you might, seduced by his gentle ghost,

See fit to turn yourself over to his side.

And we

Unfree to hold you, soothe you, sing you to your rest,

Must sit apart, protest,

But leave you lonely as you are processed

Into whatever passes for Heaven in these dread days.

We shall not place your hand in ours,

Nor watch your breath shallow,

Eyes narrow,

Skin sallow,

For you will be taken before all is said,

Before all is done,

And this sorrow-soaked son

Will simply melt into tomorrow.

So.

Stay a while longer mother mine,

For there will come another time,

This present madness will be but a shrug

And we’ll close this howling distance to a hug.