another day rolls over
into tomorrow
I wake, roll over in bed
reach for my phone
wondering if my mother
texted me in the night--
it happens a lot as we're
in different time zones
then the screen flickers
my brain reboots
and the past three months
come charging back
and I... remember why
she doesn't text
and why she can't call
still most days
I will catch myself
"saving things"
for our nightly chats
although she died
nearly three months ago...
but when I listen
to her old voicemails
her voice starlit
gathering warmth and love
I wonder what if
what if
what if
the past is just another kind
of time zone
__________________
Pic: Nu's pic of me, Max, and Huck napping. I guess I'm happy when I'm asleep? I love how Max sticks his tongue out when he's happy. (The plates of half-eaten food everywhere are Nu's thing while they're home on Thanksgiving break.)

7 comments:
I love this photo! The poem though, heartbreaking. This is such a difficult adjustment, right? <3 I like your idea, that it is just a different time zone, a different kind of separation.
a) I'm so glad you're back, I have missed your updates terribly
b) this poem is a beautiful capture of what it is to grieve someone so close
c) the end! OMG Maya. Time zones. My heart
d) the photo is great, maybe you're having a beautiful dream
Heartbreaking. And I love the time zone comparison.
I am very glad to see you back. I will be digging through the past couple months' posts in batches.
This is lovely and heartrending. I can feel the yearning and the plea for something more, for some kind of different understanding that will help make things better.
I found myself saying Has it truly been just three months?
Because it seems like so much longer, and that's just to me, a friend from the internet. I cannot imagine the way this time has felt to you. XOXO
Oh this is so lovely -- so heartbreaking and hopeful. Three months. Forever and also no time at all. ❤️
I've missed your poetry. This one, especially, resonated with me today. Sending love.
Thank you, friends <3
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