Your Son

“Mommy!” I hear the life in his voice.
But you have called to talk to me.
He brings me the phone
And we exchange a glance believe me,
You do not want to see.
I take the phone and close my eyes.
Why do you want to talk to me?
Because I have sympathy,
And you left me for someone who doesn’t?
Your tales of woe don’t go past my ears.
Don’t ask me to repeat a word you said.
If you knew who you were talking to-
You would not have thrown me out.
When you are finally done
With whatever this is about,
You tell me to give our son
All of your love.
Like an answering machine
I tell you I will,
But I have never felt so much pity.
Because one day you are going to realize,
No matter what either of us ever said-
I can only give him my love.

John H. Bidwell