Poems

The Curtain Falls On Us All
(in imitation of John Godfrey Saxe)

Twas warm young night
took me by the hand
and her moon gave light
leading where to stand,
on the dying shore,
on the sleeping sand.

Her flowing gown
blending with the sea,
Her stars shone down
so I could easily
see the stage spread out
where my mother be.

Her solo song
with her gurgling throat
with the notes too long
and her glazed eye gloat
on her hospital bed,
on her last life boat.

There my mother sang
of a differnt time
when the church bells rang,
aria sublime,
reaching out to me
with its welcome rhyme.

And I cried to night,
"Won't you let her go?
For she can't breathe right
and her heart's too slow,
and I'm far too young
to be pulled so low."

But the night spoke not
then the stage beamed bright
with my mother caught
in a dance of fright,
And I couldn't see
With my eyes shut tight.

My hand stretched far
so to hold mom's wrist,
Keep her mind afar,
Still her flailing fist,
As the curtain fell
on her life love tryst.

-I could do nothing but cry and wish.