Penultimate
The sun is buttering
the oak leaves
on this second-to-last
morning at camp.
My impatiens survived
the thirty-degree
temperature and are sun-
bathing.
The butterflies
in my heart
are still for the moment;
my mom has agreed
to move to an independent-
living facility
where she can be monitored
and stimulated.
This will be her
second-to-last home
and I don’t want to think
about her last.
The sun plays
hide-and-seek
with my fingers
as I type.
9 comments:
I love 'The sun is buttering the oak leaves'
So many second-to-last moments in this poem, Linda. I also love:
'The sun is buttering
the oak leaves'
and
'The butterflies
in my heart
are still for the moment;
my mom has agreed
to move to an independent-
living facility'
There is so much there between the lines.
This is a really beautiful poem Linda. Wistful almost. You have such vivid imagery here and the words are very melodic. I really enjoyed this one.
Lovley!
I just love
'The butterflies
in my heart
are still for the moment'
Awesome work!!
Somehow this affected me. I feel so blessed to live with my mom.
a single thought
Moved me....
So beautifully poignant.
amazing!!!!!!!!! you truly have "the gift" my friend do not ever stop showing us how to feel and linger in the subtle great moments of our lives
beautiful words dear:)
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