The mother riddle 

I will always be a daughter to each mother
in a way I will never belong to the other
and yet in my head
and heart
they collapse into each other
until it is difficult to tell them or myself apart.

The wound
and the salt
each driving the flesh to part
and bare the bone. 

- Olwethu Mxoli


Sharing Grief

“I’m sorry.”
These words are hollow and inadequate
but they are all I have to offer.
That and hope. And prayer.

Each day announces another death
another person too sick to visit
and there’s only so much compassion
the phone can carry safely and whole to the other side.

This is a terrible emptiness
the inability to offer the comfort of a body
simply sitting next to another
sharing grief.

- Olwethu Mxoli