As I hear our front door closing
and the sound of her feet down the stairs
I drift again and in the half-awake
where petals return to perfect flowers
I think of a film-script to be called ‘Becoming Mother’.
This screenplay is about a psychiatric patient’s application
to the registration service
for details of his mother’s name and whereabouts
but because the patient is being held for murders
committed in the belief that the victims
a sales-girl, a teacher and a cell-mate
were themselves his mother disguised
his application’s denied.
Coming round I remember that my own mother
has been a registrar of deaths
for many years.