His  eyes were  silent,still, and very black

The day his mother died he’d cut his arms 
With bits of pointed glass like frosty nails
The blood  had stained his shirt, yet made him calm
He did not like to  make a scene or wail.

The day his mother died he sat alone
Wondering what  to eat or who to call
Above him was hot sky, a blue, blue dome
Below the earth where very soon she’d fall

The day his mother died he hugged his cat
She alone gave comfort without blame

His  eyes were  silent,still and very black
What hope, what help, where is the nameless Name?

The day his mother died he went to sleep
To dream and wander in the deepness deep

I welcome comments and criticism

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