Mom…
repetitious
remnants
dangling moments
conversation interrupted
synapses w i d e n i n g
F
A
L
L ing
impulses shorted out impulses
no l o n g e r
reaching desired destinations
like the trip in our station wagon
keys pulled out
tossed
in six lane traffic cars
whizzed passed now your past
your car…
in the median
slowing stalling
dying
memories
of before
and now
Mom…I’m so sorry
I miss
you
being
here.
Living In the Corner of a Vortex 
You have packed so much in that short length of verse. I am still unraveling the threads. The impact is instantaneous nevertheless.
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Unraveling describes it perfectly. I’ll tuck that word away for another day. Thanks, Uma.
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