*On the Bone is a novel by Edna O’Brien, one of my favorite writers from the past, whose depictions of Irish life, Catholic upbringings, Irish women and girls trying to break free in Ireland, England and London during the 20th century resonated deeply with me. From a book featuring writers and snippets of their work I recently picked up at a book sale because one cannot have too many books!, And yes, along with thoughts of lost loves, I have a very barky dog…They say, those science types, that the ovum that will become ourselves is held in the bodies of our mums, even while they grow from infancy to girlhood to motherhood to death. Fancy that, as Mothers’ Day approaches…
When dogs bark
I think of you
And dogs bark
The world over
Even in ochre-veined Mexico
Where the women scrape the cacti
And offer them
Like Manna
With heads bowed.
On those nights of the vehement dogs
I think of you –
Oh Mother
Is there still such a long way
To go
Even tho the end has been?
Ours was a lonely wine
A lonely trail,
Without dalliance
Without men-folk.
Duologues and Dialogues
Much the same.
Climbing the next bit of missing stairs,
Like a gate hasp
Or a paw.
Oh Mother without mercy,
I am back now,
I am here to stay
I would make it again
For the sake of the song
For the sake of the rose.
Let us fold it together.
Petal upon petal
Glorious
Ancestral
Menstrual
Rose
Made red
From
The pool
Of our
Being.