Dry

Was I always unavailable?
My mother in me,
lost in a misty morning at sea
Her father died there tragically
And there she stayed,
wedded to a watery grave
And recently, finally
we returned to that place
To mark his passing
To meet her grief
And I stayed dry-eyed

Dry
When the tears remain inside
Stopped, stuck
Dry, like a stick
Disconnected, desiccated, lifeless
Dry
Shrivelled, without life
A desert where nothing grows
Dry
The cry hangs in my throat
Unheard, unsounded
The hollow space echoes back my un-sound
My non-meeting
The rattle of my absence
From wherever I’ve gone to
How do I make the journey back?
The touch of my hand on my cheek
Skin on skin
A boundary to hold me
A boundary to meet

My cry still hangs in the space
Unsounded, unheard
Unfinished

These two: absence and presence
are meeting in me