To all the mamas out there who may need these words, I see you."To a Lonely Mother"Some days I am one of youand other days I call to you --a bird molded to my nest,sending my voice into the branchesinto the deep green,listening for the echo of your reply.In the empty waiting,I hear a shudder above mewhich moves within meand the crack beneath mesteals my mind away from the sounds of the woods,from the boomerang of your urgent song,which you flung into dead air.I felt it as it slipped down my downturned headand braided itself into the dirty pine needleson the ground --Forgive me, for I can sense the leftover heatin the air, from the call I missed.I would come to you, but I am busy, waiting.