New Poetry by Erina Booker

Dead of Night

night is womb time

shaded moon time

in my dreams

dead family visit

sister reminds me

that double basses

are tuned in fourths

not fifths and I,

grateful for the return

of that knowledge now

keep it consciously lodged

in my cerebrum, last night

I visited my father

in his bi-partite mansion

crossing sides on the

white marble steps, mother

visits in shadows, only her face

clear and recognisable, lipstick-ed

and young, I stopped seeing her

at forty to save myself, this

is the only way she can

visit me now, and I

am strangely pleased,

the word ‘mother’ loaded

with substance, I realise

why the hurt of son

never saying ‘Mum’

though daughter does

I clasp each one

like a prized talisman,

They visit when I am awake

too and I am perplexed

by an identity: who was it

who strode so resolutely

through the door

that night before I

was asleep? my late-husband

or my desperate lover

who suicided, both

now intertwined

in death, the only way

I can have them both

night is womb time

doom time

moon time

- © Erina Booker 2022

Erina Booker is a Sydney/Tweed Heads based poet, whose life revolves around Poetry. She has published 11 collections, recites at public functions, belongs to poetry & writing groups, presents seminars, judges competitions, & also publishes in anthologies, & online. She has a major is Literature & Composition within her BA, & post-graduate studies in Counselling taught her more about the value of the pause. Her work may be found in Amazon, Lulu Press, & InHouse Publishing.