Poetry/Short Stories

Elusive presence…


She sings in a soothing voice

Asking me yet again; “child what hurts?”

The elusive presence of mama.

She speaks softly

Asking about my day

Wondering about my dreams

The elusive presence of mama.

“Child cry not” she says…

Comforting my weary heart

The elusive presence of mama.

“Take my hand child…”

She asks

I do just that

In the elusive presence of mama.

“Find a star in the dark…my child”

Those are her words

In the elusive presence of mama

I tag along without a care

With mama

My mama

The elusive presence of mama.

By Susan McMillan

17 thoughts on “Elusive presence…

  1. Interesting use of the word elusive. It makes me wonder whether you are thinking primarily of the evasive sense of the word(she came and went) or the hard to remember sense of the word(my memories of her come and go) or both.

    1. Thank you Elizabeth. “Elusive” is literally related to most of my childhood as I tried to make memories of my mama. In actual sense, my only memory of her is her laying still in a casket. I think it’s because in my culture back where I grew up, the body stayed in the home for 3 nights for every one to pay their last “respects”. As i grew older, I tried to erase that memory but also when days got really hard, I would wonder what my mama would have said or perhaps wanted me to do.

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