Black tarmac road, winter night, the full moon follows me.
Mammy, look, look at the moon Mammy, do you see?

My arm tucked into hers, defended from invading sibling,
On her other side, a baby brother, twelve months beyond a yearling.

The marathon walk to the church, we sit in refrigeration
Packed together inside to wait, with a shivering congregation.

On her knees, praying, with words I didn’t understand.
But all through the service, I’d hold her arm with my demanding hand.

Mammy’s lips her words moving but she never spoke the prayers aloud.
Spiritually in her faith did she speak to God above the crowd?

As if she knew what I was thinking, she lowered her face to meet my eye.
Say your prayers and don’t be cheating, God is watching from on high.

My head is lowered, hands together, mumbling words I had not grasped,
It’s a comfort to relive that scene, she’s in my heart, hands together clasped.

Mammy look to the moon, please see me, and tell me where you are?
If I could hold you in moon light, we wouldn’t seem so far.