Caroline Smith Glen: ‘Angela’

Angela

I saw my mother broken with a stroke,
sitting by the window in her chair.
My mind slipped: my heart felt it would die:
my breathing froze upon the sunlit air.

Sitting by the window in her chair
my mother’s girlish body looked the same.
In pretty clothes and rings, her hair brushed neat:
I waited at the door and spoke her name.

My mind slipped: my heart felt it would die:
too soft my voice; so still she looked away.
I walked towards her with my words of love.
Each step compressed the memories of this day.

My breathing froze upon the sunlit air.
It fell in beads of ice across the floor.
I watched her bedroom eyes turn to my own,
but her smile had left her face for evermore.

I saw my mother broken with a stroke.
In the silence of the room Fate travelled me.
Never have I known such raw despair,
nor fought so hard to hold my sanity.

Caroline Smith Glen