When she exhales an ‘uff’, she needs a hand
With threshing. Forehead-wiping indicates
Myalgia’s kicked in; she cannot stand.
I take her place. Her quick looks at my plates
At lunchtime mean she’s asking, “How’s the food?”
My restless jaws reply, “It is lip-smacking!”
Her daytime lie-down tells: she wants a good
Massage to keep her knee cramps from attacking.
But in my case, such signs are not required.
Tea—sharp at five. Used clothes—turned clean and clear.
The bed is made before I say, “I’m tired.”
She makes my world just how it should appear,
Yet needs no cues. My mother’s mind and heart—
Indeed, The Maker’s most impressive art.
Nonverbal Communication
Shamik Banerjee is a poet from Assam, India, where he resides with his parents. His poems have been published by The Society of Classical Poets, Sparks of Calliope, The Hypertexts, Snakeskin, Ink Sweat & Tears, Autumn Sky Daily, Ekstasis, among others. He secured the second position in the Southern Shakespeare Company Sonnet Contest, 2024.