When my mother died she was whisked away in a black bag
within an hour of her death, taken by people we did not know.
She wanted her body to be given to Science ( whoever that is)
Years later, still stricken, my brother and I have a confusing relationship,
Could it be that this lack of ritual upon her death has severed us?
Big things happen so fast and become unconscious so quickly.
We hardly know the cause of our pain.
Didn’t Mary Magdalene freak out when the tomb was empty?
Oil and cardamom spice, flower petals and cornmeal.
Come June, the three of us , who shared womb space,
Will pile high upon a plate, our mother’s ashes,
Blessedly returned, thank goodness.
For we are in need of a time together
to just be with her and each other.