Mind Games



Can she really be gone?

My head says yes
but my heart disagrees.
She’s there, sitting in her familiar chair
Viewing old Nairn photographs I ask,
what is she doing at this time?
She’s only ‘up the road’
 Perhaps she’s busy,
knitting a jumper for school
or putting the finishing touches
to her wonderful pastry?

Life and times are an illusion…
webs within webs.
a quantum multiverse
she’s in there somewhere.

I just need to turn off the road
at the next junction…

© stormwolf 2023
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critique and comments welcome.
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The worst pain in the whole of my life was losing my mum, and that pain never goes. Your words express so perfectly the expectation, hope and denial that follows us always. I feel my own mum’s spirit, essence whatever it is when I am in my local town where we often went together, the years fall away and I think, she walked these paths which I now am walking alone and somehow her time and my time combine and I feel her with me. Badly worded I’m afraid but I’m sure you understand what I mean. The turning off… Read more »

They never do leave us, my mum was a smoker almost all her life, she gave it up in her later years but the smell of cigarettes was still part of her home. Nobody has ever smoked in my house and I’ve lived here 20 years, but every few months the smell of cigarette smoke is everywhere and very strong, and I know she is looking in on me.
There is far more to this world than we know. Sue xx.

I am sorry for your loss, Stormwolf. What a simple and profound poem. Brilliant writing that so easily takes the reader from the physical to the esoteric.


My heartfelt condolences Alison! Your Mom is so elegant and beautiful!! Am very glad that you shared and pleased to meet your Mother here.
What a brilliantly penned poem with a past, present and a future… on a poignant note. Yes the last two lines hits with a jolt! Got to read your very interesting experiences alongwith Sue’s in comments. Yes there is a world out there of which we have glimpses now and then and they are very personal and cathartic. Thankyou Alison for this profound poem. Warm Regards, Gomathi.

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