One Last Mothering

There’s nothing to cry about.

It’s my mother’s voice speaking, 

Out of the blue, for the first time in days

Her eyes fly open like a doll’s.

There’s nothing to cry about. 

And there’s nothing to fear.

Her eyes flutter shut, her
Voice sinks back into its box
For good.

Alone in the room I still cry.
But now, upraised and thankful

For the shimmer above the clouds

For the waves of light in which
A thimble of flesh weighs more than a star

Where only souls survive,

And there's nothing to cry about, 

And nothing to fear.

Raising My Grandson

For a long time, 

I avoided the words 

Mom

Mommy

Mama

Mother

in his presence.

I didn’t say Jake's mom, but Sandra.

Not the puppy's mommy, but the big dog

Not my mother, but your great grandma.

He asked, Do I have a mom?

Other words I avoided:

Dad

Daddy

Papa

Father.

Adoption

Your children are so lucky,

we're often told.

Saved from a childhood of neglect

and maybe worse. 

Rarely mentioned,

we are lucky, too.

Saved from a life of self-attention

and nothing's worse. 

Copyright (c) 2012 Ellen McCarthy. All rights reserved.

The Day Blacky Was Killed By A Car

After school I roll out my bike. 

Come on Blacky! Off we go. 

Not a girl and a dog but a mare and her colt
gallop across the prairie, lungs bursting.
Nothing's man-made here. 
Just sunburned grass,

endless blue sky, antelope, deer,
prairie dogs, endless grouse, 

flocks of birds, gusts of wind. 

Our muzzles agape, manes a blur,

the sun is setting
hooves turn back to paws, to legs,

we are home in time for dinner, 
the girl and her dog,

the dog on a leash. 
The dog did not chase a car.

They'll gallop again tomorrow.

Copyright (c) 2012 Ellen McCarthy. All rights reserved.

What an unemployed boy told me upon learning his unemployed girlfriend is pregnant

I've been thinking about it a lot and can't sleep 

but that’s ok. 

I think it will be fine. 

She will love me no matter how many girls I date. 

She will always be there for me. 

She loves me but I will take the baby away from her

if she tries to get me for child support. 

Money isn't the problem. 

Love is all that matters. 

Stop, Cry

Sometimes, not often, 

I'd see my mother crying

in the middle of an afternoon, 

her knitting slumped in her lap, 

over no cause I knew of, till now, 

being her age then, though not having seen

as much as she who witnessed genocide first hand, 

but having seen more than enough, 

I stop pumping gas and cry for this world, 

which seems so hopelessly forsaken that 

somebody ought to cry for it. 

Somebody ought to stop shopping 
or close their laptops and shed

some crocodile tears for this
sorry world.

C

The Lanai

On that lanai in lovely Kapula, 

under a big white moon

and the ocean’s soothing roar, 

I find a moment of ease.


Until the steady groan of slimy frogs

reminds me where I am--a jungle 

of hideous creatures, frightening possibilities.

And just above my head, every second

a new electrocution scents the air with

the sizzling flesh of dying bugs, 

dangling the inevitable before me.