This was written 09/07/13. I have tried to write about my Mothers death several times but this is the only poem that sort of says what i wanted to say. I try not to have regrets about life but i do regret that she never saw me perform my poetry. Aftermath We sat and talked and smoked, Whilst your body cooled in the hospice behind us, Son, Son and daughter united in a tearful cigarette, in the beautiful volunteer tended, Friends of the hospice supported Rose garden, with ashtrays. The irony lost on those who placed them there, We smoked and we cried A world of tears for our mother and for ourselves. Each of us trying to keep a brave face To Hide the loss, the pain The knowledge that you are gone Deep inside our hearts But still the tears fell like rain Cigarettes finished we rose Hugged each other close, kissed and cried some more And went back inside To face the paperwork of death Three cigarette stubs Our temporary memorial
Posted on: Wed, 10 Jul 2013 13:33:59 +0000
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