In the shadows

In the shadows
my mother waits
for her house
to be rebuilt
her hours bloom
into unmeaning flowers
and wilt
at the feet of her youth

now and then
she may gather a few
and strew their petals
upon the dust of her days
while vagrant hope
delivers her
a promised cadence
of toil and pain

many a day
I have seen them
wash ashore
memories
upon languid waves
treasures she wove into garlands
spurned by the sea of oblivion

In my house
the walls are silent
and the deathless tree of war
is still in bloom
the light begs to dissuade
my heart’s rancorous torrent
as virtue yields
her final fruit

My place too
is in the placeless
my home
drowned with the garlands she wove
in the shadows, I wait
for my house to be rebuilt
in the shadows I wait
to go home