Anne Kellas # 8 Just as it was, the river my mother

Mother I place you
in the machine for the reduction of complexity
and it's white in there
and it's blue out here as I wait
and you breathe the air of daffodils
and you drink the water of the lake,
O lady of the lake
aglide in your flower-strewn barge
in your machine for the reduction of dreams
in your dream of the complexity of machines
in your complexity of waterlily
in your troubled trouble.
And your lost lover living
always with your best friend
and my father who art in heaven
who loved you always in your complexity
left with not even a wedding ring to wear you by.