Friday, September 29, 2006
My mother - alone in her bed
with neither memory nor care.
She is nothing but a shell
fleshy mollusk meat gone
the soup down to the last gulp.
Like the debris found in the morning
of a full night's revelry
confetti strewn thick on the pavement
amid trash of firecracker paper.
A birdcage without the bird
or a flower without the scent.
This is what she finally seemed to be
With probing eyes and withered hands
she held my face!