Where You Are

A poem/musing in memory of my mother, Maureen.

I see you still

It’s in those small moments, you arrive

And always without warning

This morning, it was birds

They flew into the air

before me as I walked

And there you were again

present in this moment and made real

Yet I cannot reach out to you,

cannot touch you.

There is only a memory

brought back to life with the flutter of a wing

Do you remember?

The wagtail bobbing in the garden

as you watched through the window

You asked me, ‘what kind of bird is that?’

And I did not know but took to learning their names

so I could tell you whenever you asked me again

But you never did