Phantom Mother
When the children are gone to their dad’s or grandparent’s or wherever,
the air in the house is still, no atoms in flux over robots, horses
or Ninja Turtles.
They’re coming back, for now. In the far
future they’ll stop, and we will live in stasis, waiting for holiday
visits, not sure what to do with the unfiltered oxygen that encases us.
When they go, I will still be here,
like a mother under a curtain in a 19th century photo
holding her infant still, faced forward
hands unseen directing the shot.
When the children are gone to their dad’s or grandparent’s or wherever,
the air in the house is still, no atoms in flux over robots, horses
or Ninja Turtles.
They’re coming back, for now. In the far
future they’ll stop, and we will live in stasis, waiting for holiday
visits, not sure what to do with the unfiltered oxygen that encases us.
When they go, I will still be here,
like a mother under a curtain in a 19th century photo
holding her infant still, faced forward
hands unseen directing the shot.
Helen R Broom, (nee Helen R Peterson), has been published in over 100 online and print journals, both nationally and internationally. She was the poetry editor of the small press print journal Chopper and the online journal The Waterhouse Review. Her first full length book of poetry, Melons and Memory, was published in 2012 by Little Red Tree Press. She is also the host and co-producer of the Poetry in the Bar Podcast and Open Mic series. Helen lives in Michigan with her husband, children, dog, and four cats.
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