"Death"

My Mother Is Like A Faded Memory

Her Face,

Her Smell,

Her Personality, All Gone,

But Not.

Her Memories Are Still Here

In That, Is She Truly Gone?

I Know That August Eventing

When Those Tears Were Shed And Words Tumbled Out Of My Dad’s Quivering Mouth

I Didn’t Cry,

I Walked Outside, Taking A Breath,

The Air Chilly In My Lungs

I Said

“Take Care Of Her, Make Her Not Hurt”

To The Air,

To The Ground,

To The World Beyond.

“Give Her Everything She Wants, Everything And Anything, Just Please Oh Please..”

“Don’t Take Her Sunshine Away.”