Sonnet (for Hilda) | Ronald MacPherson

It is for you I ponder the wasted time
While shadows dance along the wall
It is for you I wait for another state of mind
In haste the mood is gathering the tide.
I stood before you in your raged state (as)
You clung to me in desperate longing,
But I was loath to hold your dying face
As these sixty years have passed unfathomed
And each day and each year an eternity.
There is no one to tend the depth of tragedy.
Not I nor any words spoken give testament to
Your devotion kept sealed in whisky jars
In the house where faith once lived.

Poet's note: This poem is about my mother who was trapped in an unloving and abusive marriage that resulted in alcohol abuse and serious depression that ultimately caused her death at the age of forty seven. It represented a tragedy for someone who had considerable talent and promise that was unrealized.