Diffusion
My mother,
fragile, translucent
bent
as if hovering over the world
to make all things right
with her gentle
hands
Whether I live or die
doesn’t matter
but I fear
her death.
fragile, translucent
bent
as if hovering over the world
to make all things right
with her gentle
hands
Whether I live or die
doesn’t matter
but I fear
her death.
2 Comments:
Tom-
You are in my thoughts at a time like this.
Always wish I knew what to say, but I can't and I won't even try.
Phyll
Tom,
Your ability to express your feelings in your writing of poems and songs is a magnificent gift. You are the greatest writer I have ever known. These words paint such a vivid picture and bring a chill to the heart. Your love for your mother is beautiful. Sondra
Post a Comment
Links to this post:
Create a Link
<< Home