Ennui of the Present

She came searching for life, upstairs;
holding the clutch of time, that
she herself was feeling disenchanted about it

ennui of the present
came plashing with higher tides
indifferent to who she was

Oblivious of stepping legs
she strayed from her present path
to her familiar past

Repeatedly she called out her mother
that her mother was alive; resting or sitting in her upper room
knowing least that her mother had died forty years earlier

She is eighty years old now, pressing her remaining years
with the bonding lost into the past, that
She and her Mother once drew milk out of it

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