I haven’t posted here for a while; life has been busy and tiring. Time to hear what the Oracle has to say about things, and, as usual, she already knows the news. Not anyone I knew personally, but a mother is a mother.
A piece of news, soft and sad
The words blow away in this brisk wind
too many leaves already dead
and sloes shrivelled like prunes.
We tread on rotting fruit
where wasps and hornets sugar-skim
making for the green morning.
A mother died before the light
and never saw this new day
colouring slowly with summer
but the jays shriek anyway
and blackbirds sweep the hedges
a cat whisks her impudent tail
because of the day
the green of it
and the sweet rain passing.
The Four Swans 
A poignant piece Jane.
LikeLike
Thank you, Di xx
LikeLiked by 1 person
I love the imagery, sloes shrivelled, sweet rain passing, poignant.
LikeLike
Thanks Paul. The way of all flesh…
LikeLike
Beautiful language and images, and the title is exactly right. Beautiful, soft, and sad.
LikeLike
Thank you xx It’s the mother of one of the editors. I don’t ‘know’ either him or his mum, but I know she’s been in and out of hospital this year, and I felt time would be the last.
LikeLiked by 1 person
You’re welcome. We both know what it’s like to lose one’s mother. xx
LikeLike
xxx
LikeLiked by 1 person
❤ yes, when a mother leaves, the earth cries
LikeLike
No matter how old she is. It might have been her time to go, but no child is ever prepared for it.
LikeLiked by 1 person
It is always hard to reconcile death and the life that continues in spite of it. (K)
LikeLike
And yet, we have to. It’s only hard when it’s someone close, and then, the rule doesn’t apply.
LikeLiked by 1 person
We do.
LikeLiked by 1 person
This is stunning x💜💜💜
LikeLike
Thank you, Willow xx Trying to put death of an elderly sick woman into perspective, but I keep thinking of how her children must be feeling.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Death is always heartbreaking when or wherever it strikes 💜💜💜
LikeLike
It is xxx
LikeLiked by 1 person
This is so beautiful, Jane. Very poignant. Lovely to read you.
LikeLike
Thank you, Sherry xx I post very little here now. When I write something I post it on Substack. It’s not cosy and ‘family’ like here, but the audience is bigger.
LikeLike
Do you know that feeling of walking on crisp, dry leaves, the sound of it, and you just can’t walk soft enough, tenderly enough so that your heart doesn’t ache? That’s this poem.
LikeLiked by 1 person
That’s a lovely analogy. Thank you xx
LikeLiked by 1 person