One less child to wish Happy Mother’s day
one less child to worry about
In the little church in the woods
sit many mothers of children
whose voices no longer there.
One less seat at the table
one more space on the pew
one less voice singing hymns on a cloudy Sunday morning.
I hear them for these women who gave birth
to pieces of clay molded and sculpted
with their dry and scarred hands.
They say, “It’s okay, Mommy. Let’s play a game!”
playing basketball in the driveway
while Mom sets the table
keeps the food nice and hot
while the Kids make centerpieces of
violet irises and lilies of the valley
and wait patiently ’till you come home.