I see myself disappearing from my mother’s eyes
Even though I’m sitting right here,
I see I slip from her mind
She says, ‘and where have you come from today?
And say hello to your ma,
I don’t get out much now, they don’t let me go far
She stares at the paper each day
She reads every word
They sit neat and true on the page
But meanings fly off like birds
Oh today’s all a muddle she says
I just need time to get clear
Always only just moved in Never sure she’ll stay here
In the end is a life just a busted old box tied with string?
Leaking old faded photos as we start to float free from our things/and all the songs we will no longer sing
I ring up to say I’ll be down,
she says, ‘I’ll make sure that I’m here’
She’s always in the same room
we sit in the same chairs
‘What a lovely surprise’, she says
It’s been such a long while
‘No-one seems to call now I know you’ve not got the time’
I’ve learned to stop asking questions
They only cause her despair
She’s got a collection of favourite phrases
She calls up then sets free in the air
What a beautiful day she says
Oh those houses are new
Everything’s for the best Remind me whose boy are you?
I get up to leave and feel her puzzled eyes follow me home
Too soon we are turning away And too soon all alone
What a lovely surprise she says What a beautiful day
We’ve all been so lucky The good have their day
————————-
An unravelling tape full of songs we can no longer sing
I ring up to say I’ll be down but I’m not really sure why
I wonder just who she thinks I am this time
At least she thinks that she knows
She repeats all her favourite lines
And I’ve stopped using questions
Little bird little bird don’t fly too high
Bring back your song to light up her eyes
Little bird little bird come flying home
And let her find some rest from the threatening storm
You can see her eyes chasing it around the room
You can see her ears pricking for its sweet sweet tune
She has incantations to ward off the dark
She hums to herself all day tunelessly to still her heart
She avoids using names but she shines
In straight lines they march/squat/crouch cross/on the page
Dorothy/she reads the paper all day –but can’t remember a word/but the world is a place far away/but the things that she reads
Like runes in a land far away
One day the birds will fly away not to return
bob's songs 