My mother never held my hand
by Margot Miller © 2006
My mother never held my hand
She never stroked my hair
She never kissed my eyelashes,
Never pressed me against her heart.
My mother never read to me
She never quizzed me on my multiplication tables
It was my fault, all my fault, she said.
She stopped writing and calling
And I did, too.
My mother died without a witness
She slipped out of hell
Into the unknown
With no one to hold her hand
END