Her rapture had ended
One memory still persists; of my
mother looking over me; chock-a-block
with disease and pestilence in her
bones and brain but still interested in
whether I am sleeping; remembering
or even seeing in me there another
daughter; with less growth and
She was suffering and near her
cancer-blackened end, but in the
middle of that summer night she
thought to look in on me, and, and,
when I asked her if she was ‘Okay
Mum?’ she turned and walked away;
shuffling, as if I had broken some
spell she was under.
Her rapture had ended.
Claire Sexton is a fifty year old librarian living in Berkshire, but originally from Wales. She lived in London for twenty years and is currently detoxing from this experience. She has been published in Ink, Sweat and Tears, Foxglove Journal, Amethyst Review, and Light: a Journal of Photography and Poetry.