My Mother This work is considered exceptional by our editorial staff.

She loved rainstorms
and blue
like her favorite satin dress
soft against my cheek
when I hugged her
She loved long baths
and cried during every movie
clapping at the end
as the credits rolled by
My mother
high cheek bones and
and wrinkles by her eyes
a permanent reminder
of her smiles
She sang
with a voice of angels
I like to think she's singing with
them now
robbed in white
with a twinkling harp
because I have no clue what heaven
is really like
See, my mother was a warrior
even when she faded
to a shadow of our memories
as her hair fell out
every chestnut strand
and as the chemo failed us
again and again
But it doesn't matter now
I guess
those days
the long nights
as we waited for phone calls
are gone
with her
But still
keeping in my heart
the memory my sparkling eyed fighter
the echoes of her voice
and a satin blue dress
all the footprints that
she left behind





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Nnedimma2 said...
Apr. 30, 2010 at 7:35 pm
That was beautifu! 
 
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