My mother
clings to me
as we walk
to the chair
the bed
the bathroom.
Why can't I remember
I just can't do anything anymore
She gets nosebleeds
I guess this is the end,
she says into the bloody tissues
She smells of mildew
of urine
She eats a few bites
and tries to escape her chair
I've got to get out of here
She leans on me, and says
I just don't want to go like this.
Oh, Janet. This one breaks my heart. I have known and loved your mother for over 20 years - you write beautiful, raw verse that takes me right into the heart of your ordeal.
ReplyDeletethank you, dear friend. the poetry is turning out to be a really blessed release.
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