In My Mother's House

In my mother's house we gather
loud with laughter, raw with life
she sits back and watches smiling
sometimes brooding, sometimes frowns
her daughers' wenches, her sons clowns.

In my mother's house we gather
speaking softly, treading light
she stays busy, humming slightly
knowing that the time is nigh
one of us will say goodbye.

In my mother's house we gather
laughing, crying love and pain
she sits silent, taking pictures
trying to hold the memory
of what is but will not be.

In my mother's house we gather
knowing this will be the last
she sits smiling in the photo
capturing in black and white
love slipped off into the night.

In my mother's house we gather
every night within my dreams
all around me faces loving
that awake I cannot see
faces waiting there...for me.