A Poem

For My Mother
April 29, 1936-December 12, 1987
by Juan McAfee

I would like to see you living,
which may not happen.
I would like to see you,
living. I would like to live
with you, that I might
take life from my mouth and
into yours

and breathe breath into your
fragile frame and sweet flesh
with your hair of dirt
and mind of grass and life
of souls

I would like to give you the sparkling
yellow flowers, the ones
growing in lacy shadows of shore-trees.
I would like to share memories with you
like a song traded back and forth.
I would give up wholeness
to see your face and hear you speak
and you hear my confession,
and I your answering
of what happened so long ago
before that one indifferent winter.

I would like to see you for a moment
only. I would like you to know that
I am here
and I will follow.