Kiran Speaks

A mother’s name drifts away the wind
slipping through my fingers in the breeze,
impossible to catch and hold on
even as I grasp onto the strings.
I cry out, oh it’s so loud,
the wailing around me and in my head.
a brother can’t catch his breath,
I tell him, take one in, and then release.
But I can’t seem to catch the air
when I’m alone in my man’s arms,
comfort silent as despair
rerunning words through my head
I should’ve been there; I should’ve been better
I should’ve loved her more when she was around
I should’ve answered the phone or gone to their home
I should’ve massaged her aching crown,
I should’ve held my grandfather’s hand
as he received the unfathomable news
I should’ve been in more pain at home
instead of going crazy thinking of her tomb.
I sit with mourners as they cry,
sniffling, letting out a tear, even a few,
but when I’m home and all alone,
I weep and remember the smiles from you.