Death of a Mother

THE FIRST ARCHIVES- A poetic journey into and through adolescence

Death of a Mother

Twenty three years between us.

Gravea and groud between us.

Heaven earth between us.

Mother was kind.

Mother was mine.

But, I was blind,

Pneumonia stole her.

A few words were said,

Mother sleeps in her new bed.

Down she goes.. into the ground.

Doesn’t even make a sound.

Howls and screams erupt.

I watch the ground swallow her whole.

They say goodbye to her sweet soul.

Mother is gone into the ground.

Her spirit spins around and around.

Mother watches from the cloud,

Playing the games that pneumonia forbid

Pneumonia can never find you mother, for you are safely hid.

I see mother happy and free

I see mother smiling at me.

Death Of A Mother was my 15 year old written description of a funeral. My love for writing was still fresh then, the poem was inspired by a funeral I had attended where three siblings all under the age of fourteen returned to the village to bury their mother. Only the oldest who was about twelve seemed to really recognise the grave chapter unfolding before him. I watched his body remain standing motionless while a fountain of tears sprung from his pink, blood shot eyes. I later came to find out that his mother had actually died of AIDS , due to the intense stigma of HIV / AIDS the family tried to conceal her illness and claim that it was pneumonia.