Pussy willows
soft gray forevers
like my mom
a sign of hope
that lasts through
the winter of life.
On Sunday I’m
flying to Florida
to see her because
she’s hurting:
compression fractures,
cracked pelvis,
memory loss,
depression.
Decisions
must be made.
This afternoon
I took a walk
in the woods
and picked some
pussy willows.
I put them in a vase
next to my parents’
wedding photo.
3 comments:
Tender and true. =)
Linda--I hope your mother will be okay. Your poem is heartfelt. It expresses a lot of pain. I know where you're coming from (see my poem "Nessa," day #3 of the challenge). Hang in there!
Linda, touching no matter what, really touching if this is happening in your lives.
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