Mother Has None

Shivering lips plead with desperation
to connect with the daughter,
before her a stranger she hardly knows.
Why? She demands no lies, or perhaps all lies,
why would she want to leave the family
to live on her own, a single girl?

No answer. No assurance. Mother has none.

To a foreign country in political unrest,
why, why now? And why did she not tell,
and discuss before deciding, until now
the night before the flight, and when
are you coming back, if ever?

No answer. No assurance. Mother has none.

Handkerchief daps in streaming tears,
at least wait, talk to your eldest sis;
she knows better. No, no, what does she know?
The protestations come roaring to dam
the sister's involvement, to retain obstinacy
in her flagging will to be free.

No answer. No assurance. Mother has none.

P.S.: This was written some time ago when the memory suddenly came back. Years later, I still feel that my sister should have done or said more to assure mom, even some whites lies were becoming.