In the Sink

i stood at my sink
with a stinking feeling
and thought, maybe i miss my mother,
and how long has it
been now
since i spoke with her
or even
listened with my
" too busy " daughter ears ?
maybe i do miss my mother, but
wonder
if she too has stood sinking
there at her own sink
thinking of some excuse
to call me up ?
am i doing ok or do i
need some money,
she often asks,
and my replies
are, well, never guite accurate.
there are so many things
i do now like she did then,
right on down to
those busy frowns,
that have takin'
to showing up
on my own worried face,
only now they are so called self-explainitory,
so i stand
here at my sink
with a sinking feeling
and honestly know,
it's not so much
that i miss her
as
it is i miss
what we just never got the chance
to be
to one another,
and also how much of
a struggle i will endure
in finding the words,
when at last
i am able to call her.

copyright © Robin House 2001-2002
all rights reserved

Last Updated: 1-13-05

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