When Mom died
there was a moment
when I thought
my eyes would run with tears forever.
But though her dying will never stop,
eyes do run dry,
and mind and focus drift.
When the grief slipped away,
I dreamed instead of Mom
the way she dreamed herself;
fleet and sure-footed,
a goddess in full stride.
Friday, September 3, 2010
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
This poem gives me a feeling of warmth. hope and strength. Dale
Post a Comment