“Well goodbye,” she says
standing there in front of her house
in a gay red wool coat, her handbag in hand,
an open smile on her face
I glance at my dad, caught by the pain
in his eyes that is louder than my reply
“Mom, you’re coming too,”
we all laugh, we all hurt, except her
“Okay,” she says, oblivious to
the machination of the dynamics
of the interaction and cogs changing gear
in a family lost in her mind.
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology