oh antic God
return to me
my mother in her thirties
leaned across the front porch
the huge pillow of her breasts
pressing against the rail
summoning me in for bed.
I am almost the dead woman’s age times two.
I can barely recall her song
the scent of her hands
though her wild hair scratches my dreams
at night. return to me, oh Lord of then
and now, my mother’s calling,
her young voice humming my name.
Lucille Clifton, “ ‘oh antic God’ ” from Mercy. Copyright © 2004 by Lucille Clifton. Reprinted with the permission of BOA Editions Ltd., http://www.boaeditions.org.
Source: Mercy (2004)
WOW – beautiful and poignant (you know me I teared up when I rad it….reminds me of us)
What a wonderful story, Mercy! It seems like the only time I do things like htat is when I’m thinking too much of myself! But – it’s nice to be abruptly reminded that we’re human once in a while! I’m glad it all turned out great for you.
Have a lovely weekend!
Your tart is lovely! Beautiful story.