Easter Sunday 1988

I have a faint headache
the icing on a cake 
of too much wine
and an afternoon of sunshine 
which did not penetrate 
the smoked-glass windows 
of the hospital where she lay 
lightly-swathed in crisp sheets
the colour of a day 
she could not see.

I wasn't there 
when she slipped away
I was on a hillside
gazing in half-crazed wonder
at a day where light and beauty meet
I sat on nature's seat 
absorbed with overwhelming sight
and all the might of my own 
and mother's love combined 
could not prevent her journey 
to an unknown rising.  

She left us far below
engulfed in nature's vastness
but she must have seen me there
drowning in the light
cracked by the space which surpasses
any mortal clown's endeavour

and I hover here 
wish it were forever this
staring at the sun.

previous poem