today I read RED DOC by Anne Carson.
I cried and cried until my tear glands ran dry.
then I began to sing.
it sounded like this:
Mothers in summer,
Mothers in winter,
Mothers in autumn,
Mothers in spring.
Mothers at altitude,
Mothers in solitude,
Mothers as platitude,
Mothers in spring.
Mothers banking their shots,
Mothers crackling their throats,
Mothers dumped from their boats in spring.
Mothers as ice or
when they are nice,
no one more nice in spring.
Mothers ashamed and ablaze
and clear at the end as they are, as they almost all are,and then
Mothers don’t come around again in spring.