memorial for a brilliant woman

Sunday, April 07, 2013

NAPOMO poem-a-day April 6

There is no bad day to die

In my teens I begged for my life
to see what was going to happen,
twenty years later I whispered
silent prayers for another decade
so my children would know me.
As time rolled on I wanted to have
all the "things" I’d missed
before the end, leave my mark.
I wrote furiously raw poems,
until I learned to be careful.
Right now, I want to sleep
with some assurance of morning,
rest in spite of your snores,
let silence embrace me when
you are gone and I’m still here.

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