Time of Death



I visited Mum yesterday.

“Sorry your mother died,“ she said.

“No, no, you’re my mother; I’m your son – remember?”

“Oh yes,“ she said. “Sorry to hear of your mother’s death,” she said a moment later.

“No,“ I repeated, “you’re my mother.”

“Oh,“ she said. “How long have I been dead?”


13 thoughts on “Time of Death

    1. Thanks – your feedback means a lot. I usually think of these as little prose pieces rather than poems, although I acknowledge they get very close to poetry at times…..and I’ve started breaking the lines a bit more often recently. Maybe I was a poet I just didn’t….quite realize it! Thanks again.


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