A Mother Leaving

Now that you’ve left (and at such short notice),
I worry: did you pack all that you need?
Did you take sufficient clothing, a good coat
for these late winter days?

Now that you’ve gone (no time for long goodbyes),
I wonder: where will you sleep, where will you dream?
Are there blankets where you’re going, a soft pillow
for these late winter nights?

I see you did pack some essentials:
my love, eternal gratitude,
my friendship and my heart;
at least part of it.

Now that you’ve died (your room dark and still),
I ask myself, where will you live?
But I know the answer: you now live in me
as I once lived in you.