How To Talk To My Mother

A poem about loss

Photo by Kelly Sikkema on Unsplash

Use the world’s longest telephone line

dial God’s number

and ask to be put through

to the Eternal Tennis Club.

They’ll have to call her

off the court –

since God fixed her elbow

she’s been out there

every day.

Arthur Ashe is her new coach

although she complains

about his swearing.

She’ll arrive at the phone

puffing and slightly sweaty;

before I can get a word in

she’ll recite the results

of every game she’s played

this week

and then ask me why

I’ve been giving people

her apple slice recipe again.

Suddenly she’s gone

just like before

and the questions

I needed answers for

are still trembling

in my mouth.