Mother,s Pity

M is for

Mother,s Pity
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Naked on the mortuary slab
Half his head had been blown away
But all she saw was how green his eyes had been
Green as new grass
In twenty years he had grown to the shape of a man
Tall and proud
Beyond the reflection on the retina
She saw the child tied to her skirts
Like a new born lamb following the ewe
She looked at the blood caked hair
Matted like a fleece
Her fingers worked the beads as she mouthed the prayers
The worn prayers, an unction of words
Falling from her lips like dead leaves
Then she stared at his head and thought
Of plums and pomegranates and knew the thick
Scent of bruised fruit
Oh son my son
and his eyes just stared;