MOTHERS OF PEARL Options

[Maureen]

Maureen Clifford © The #Scribbly Bark Poet 09/10



Flying out of the sun from the west
with a terrible roar –
what is it?
What is it?
I open the door and see the metal birds
flying in formation
at one second intervals
Streaking low over the hilltop –
towards the bay below..

Kneeling beside the garden bed
a handful of flowers at her side
my Mother cries –
a rare emotion –
for her.
The tears stream, down her face;
her shoulders shake
as sobs rack her body.

Down by the harbour great waterspouts erupt -
a pall of grey smoke
drifts across the bay.
Explosions,
followed by fireballs light the sky
like an out of season fireworks night.
Screaming sirens,
racing jeeps,
a cacophony of sound.

Chaos reigns at the water’s edge.
The chatter of machine guns and men screaming.
A chorus of deadly music –
bewildering to me,
and again the metal birds swoop overhead.
Red circles
on their silver plumage
clear to the eye.

My Mother is weeping still –
tears streaming down her face
blood dripping from her fingertips –
pierced by the thorns of the red rose
she has crushed in her green fingers.