Dear Mother

Dear Mother

October 03, 2022 1 Comment

 

 

 

Dear Mother

by Kelly Fordon

 

 

Dear Mother,

Once mother. Once upon a time. 
How the king swooped down and caught you in his net.                    Neck. 

As in snapped.  As in mine. Oh, mother, 
such a wild ride, such ferocity, such                            conviction. 

A bus filled with pilgrims,         singing as the convoy sails over the cliff.
Those who seek the promised land                  strewn with mines. 

Oh mother, once upon a time, mother. I owe you something 
but what? And what of me here in this white room with the ash 

scattered and the rocker stationed at the window. It’s winter.            Even 
the trees are cowering. 

All day long I listened with my ear against the earth for        something 
to germinate and lift, for the ground to part, for the shoots to emerge. 

I wanted you to materialize on a shiny green leaf, as if your exodus
was a temporary matter.

 

 

 

 

 

_______________  

Portrait of Kelly Fordon

Kelly Fordon (she/her/hers) is the author of a short story collection I Have the Answer (Wayne State University Press, 2020), a novel-in-stories, Garden for the Blind, (WSUP 2015), a poetry collection, Goodbye Toothless House, (Kattywompus Press, 2019) which was adapted into a play, and three chapbooks. She hosts “Let’s Deconstruct a Story.”

 

 



1 Response

Neecee
Neecee

October 27, 2022

Just lost my own mother. This poem speaks for me as well.. My condolences, Ms. Fordon, and my thanks.

Leave a comment

Comments will be approved before showing up. We don't allow comments that are disrespectful or personally attack our blog writers.


Also in Ruminate Magazine

The Future of Ruminate
The Future of Ruminate

November 21, 2022

Today, we write to you with bittersweet news. 

Read More

Winners of the 2022 Waking Flash Prose Prize
Winners of the 2022 Waking Flash Prose Prize

October 31, 2022

Just in time for Halloween: We're announcing the winner, runner-up, and finalists of the 2022 Waking Flash Prose Prize. 

Read More

Angel Bath
Angel Bath

October 03, 2022 1 Comment

When she thought of all that shiny porcelain shattering down the slope, angels’ limbs mangled and plump cheeks drowned in the muddy river, her body quivered in an almost religious ecstasy.

Read More