My Santiago

For the good, for the better,

Some numbering into the thousands,

Of young men and women,

Who have taken some small quotient,

Some modicum of my life lessons

- Many from you, my mother – Not necessarily from weighty words,

Wise aphorisms,

But certainly from,

A life lived well,

A love given freely,

A protection accorded without conditions attached.

There were the lessons

of grammar, of phrasing, and iambic pentameter,

and close reading,

All what I so freely dispense of now,

All that,

All that came from you.

Mum, Seven years on,

And life for me, for us, has changed;

No longer those visits to Adelaide to see my mother, my father;

That looked – forward – to – time

When we would recreate moments

around the dining table,

Engaging in multiple conversations.

Now more disparate,

We – spread across states,

All with so much to do,

Invariably missing the times