Mother speaks to me
In her wild tongue
Barely audible
Hardly translatable
But with a love so deep
It hurts
That I can't save her
I can only lay with her
On death's bed
Broken and unable
To leave
The remnants of her life
Lived in perfect circles
Balanced precisely according to time
For my turn
To hear the sound of my voice
Speaking in a wild tongue
Telling my story
With a love so deep
Mary Wynne studied English literature at the University of Minnesota a million years ago at the same time she also published her first poem, though she can no longer remember the poem nor the publication. She still calls the North Country home, where she gardens, picks at the guitar and has rediscovered her love of playing with words. Her new poems have recently been published by Vita Brevis Press and Spillwords Press. She has completed two yet-to-be-published chapbooks, Reconciliation and Hindsight, and she is currently thinking about what to do next.
