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Wednesday, March 3, 2010

My Mother...

My Mother a Yellow Rose
My Mother a Pretty Nose

Cigarettes and Lighter in her Pocket
I hide the Ashtrays under the Couch

Her hands are like mine except she has Red Fingernails
I hear her call out for me hollering Cissy, Cissy, Cissssyyyy!
I yell back WHAT!

Spaceship watchers under the stars
On our backs like parked Cars

Singing by the Piano
My Mother bangs on the keys
Only she sounds like her
I heard it on the recording I don't know where

My Mother bittersweet full of life
Spewing Heat

My Mother everybody's Darling
I can't find her in the Crowd
I will always Protect her once I find her

My Mother moving always Moving
Pretty Houses left behind ugly ones still to find
Our bodies we drag along

My Mother a crazy life
I am scared the mirror a portrait of My Mother
Why be afraid it is a compliment little girl

My Mother oh so very sick
Whatever shall I do I can't Protect her
She is Dying I am afraid I will forget her

My Mother's last breathe ragged and long
Early in the morning after a Dream
Momma you're really Gone

Now I am standing on my tip toes on the top of the World
I can't see her where are her Hands
I can't hear her calling me

I don't know life without Her
I will have to live on my own

Written by Dawn, Wellness Educator

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