No one will ever hear my mother’s stories again,
Fearless tales, tales of courage in war, in life,
locked in my memory with the cadences of her voice,
Although they are always with me, I cannot repeat their spirit
I cannot tell them as she did, cannot mimic the tone, the inflection,
I cannot recreate the music of her life, though my heart hears her telling.
I cannot recite events once vivid and fresh on her lips, lively,
I lack the animation, though my heart hears her telling.
No one else will hear my mother’s stories again,
Though my heart hears, vivid, animated, fearless tales,
Full of her spirit and her heart, full of the music of her life
I cannot mimic the inflection though my heart hears her telling
Mother’s Day 1998