The Way She Loved You

By Sofia Wilson

My mother told me all about the way she loved you.

As time spun on its axis,

And the days grew longer, 

She would think of only you.

The hot days of summertime 

Perpetuating the cool night bliss

Of a sincerity to contest Pistis.

You roamed her heart and held her hand. 

She loved you in a way only the Earth can love the Sun.

My mother told me all about the way she loved you.

The leaves changed, 

But you remained.

She spent the nights watching the clock tick by,

And you counted the seconds together.

The moments were yours, together.

The air turned sharp, and the love remained warm;

She was happy, as were you.

She loved you in a way only the Earth could love the Sun.

My mother told me all about the way she loved you.

The night consumed the Earth,

And she clutched her flashlight tightly in her hand.

She was breaking in the bitter cold of winter.

Into the abyss, she fell, 

Your hand let go of hers.

         Why did you let go of her hand?

It was freezing. You were gone, remorseless.

She was lost, and so was the love

She had believed in so much.

My mother loved you in a way only she could love someone.

My mother told me all about the way she loved you.

The days began to grow again, 

And mother stopped talking about you.

She smiles wider now, sings louder.

She tells me of her newfound happiness.

I do not tell her that I hear her in the mornings,

Silent, independent sobs penetrating the air,

Slicing it with a gentle ferocity.

She weeps briefly at sunrise,

Because she knows the Sun will only have to set

And leave the Earth once again.