Homebound (vignettes)
she held my hand, squeezed it tightly. you know he is everywhere. I smiled and nodded. we then looked up at the biggest, brightest star I had ever seen. she began to dance in the desolate parking lot, looking up at the midnight sky. see how he moves with me? that’s my son. i took the candle from her hand and watched her move side to side. the grief would come later. right now, she had found comfort in movement.
***
the last two months have shaken my core, shifted me a little out of place. i walk sideways now, colliding into walls, posts, people. i’m trying to find my way back to some time ago. unsure of how to get there. so i follow her song.
***
a promise of movement
the space which holds no language
together mother son cross
as footsteps smash memory
into pavement burst
a promise of movement
the space which holds no language
together mother son cross
as footsteps smash memory
into pavement burst
blisters inside shoes too tight
bruised fingers sway
synchronous to
the rhythm of loss
bruised fingers sway
synchronous to
the rhythm of loss
on the corner of River and Gerrard
little boy squints at the sky
in the softness of a pause
holds tight to the hem of his mama’s coat
wishing for glitter rain
Shadi Eskandani 
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