Tears over the phone
obscuring
the words,
but not the
emotion,
she read
her poem
about
her grandmother—
five years calling
Pain!
Falling
on the
floor
then two weeks
to the end
when morphine
dreams
and real pain
became inner love
and outer
reaching.
She cried,
“I didn’t cry
when I
wrote
this.
I don’t
Know
Why
I’m
crying
now…”
Except
it all
made
perfect
sense
and the living
we feel
finds its
expression
in
moments
surprising,
clear,
yet undefined
and
free,
however
harrowing
our hearts
expand
and
contract.
2 comments:
I cried. It's beautiful.
This is a beautifully written poem. It reached into my heart, and my own memories of the passing of my mother and grandmother, and how much I treasure them. Julie
Post a Comment