“Mama don’t go.”
Melvin’s words were simple.
They were brief but they rattled
terribly in his mother’s ears
long after.
Even unto this day,
those few words live long.
“I need you.”
He said.
His eyes had failed
to open that damp November dawning.
A fever and a restless night of sickly sleep
brought tears and need in the early morning gray.
“Please don’t go. I need you today.”
The words were desperately spoken as the boy’s
mother dressed herself and readied herself for the
commute and work.
“Mama’s stay, I’m feeling sick,
I am hot and cold and everything hurts.”
He needed to feel that he was worthy of her moments,
that he was worthy of her concern.
“Baby don’t cry, you know that I must leave.
You’ll be okay.”
She kissed him softly on his palid brow and
with the thorough and regretful longing, she left the room
and clicked the door behind her.
“Mama don’t go.”
She heard his voice again coming from behind the door.
“I’ll be home shortly.”
She told herself and him as she blended into traffic
and drove the tears from her eyes.
