Mother is somewhere.

When mother brushes my hair,

she is careful and gentle

but her hands are hesitant and lost.

When i tell mother of my day,

she listens attentively-

but i know my voice is only white noise.

When i put on the pretty new dress mother bought for me,

i twirl in joy as she watches with amusement-

but mother doesnt see me

mother cant hear me

mother cant feel me

My dear, beautiful mother

is was stolen by a revirie so blinding

so far away in a place,

a place only she knows of

and once she visited,

she never came back.

My mother is somewhere.