Some Mornings the Silence


Some mornings
the silence
in this house
is so profound,
I wonder
if my mother
will ever wake again.

Will I be the one
who finally opens
her bedroom door,
or will she?

Eight o�clock, nine,
ten � and yet instinct,
or something like it,
tells me it will not
end this way.

If her mind
doesn�t wake her,
her body will.

When at last I hear
her toilet flush,
I feel the strangest
sense of grief.

I feel the pain
of disappointment,
and the joy
of pure relief.

August 25, 2006







Previous Entry     Next Entry     Return to Songs and Letters     About the Author

Main Page
Author�s Note
Background
Notebook
A Listening Thing
Among the Living
No Time to Cut My Hair
One Hand Clapping
Songs and Letters
Collected Poems
Early Short Stories
Armenian Translations
Interviews
News and Reviews
Highly Recommended
Let�s Eat
Favorite Books & Authors
Useless Information
Conversation
E-mail & Parting Thoughts


Flippantly Answered Questions

Top of Page