“A Mother and Child Reunion” Paul Simon

Orphaned at 42 – old enough to understand.
Still young to feel deserted by a woman who knew
me inside out, back to front & all points east and west

She acknowledged all my faults loved me
just the same, unstinting and unfailing.
Listened to my woes imagined or otherwise.

And sometimes annoyingly reiterated the other
point of view of which I was wilfully oblivious.
My orphan Annie heart has never ever stopped

missing her and her faithful and curious
predilection for housework and ‘turning out’.
Her afternoon’s summer finery after the morning’s prosaic

overall of labour, satisfied from the consoling therapy
of dusting, hovering, baking and all things housewifely.
Meals set at tables for my Father’s and my delight.

I chirruping along about my perennial childish
doings – secure as any child has the right to be.
Cocooned, embraced, enveloped and indulged.

Our constant relationship moving through the years
Her stoicism and dignity when my Father died
and she faced an uncertain and alien world alone.

“A Mother and Child Reunion” Paul Simon

She washed my feet – plastered my hands.
Ministered to my every need – with a gracious natural giving.
And I returned the favour when the time inevitably came.

And washed her feet, her mobile working hands and pretty
animated face – sparkling eyes charming the ambulance men.
The last pit stop on the final journey to the end.