poetjohncompton Posted January 8, 2020 Share Posted January 8, 2020 my mother is dying (i prepare myself) & not in the pretend way i write, occasionally, when she was a functioning alcoholic, or when it made a poem more interesting. my mother is dying. her kidneys rebelling, becoming cirrhosis. she sits in front of me, relays the information with easy memorized lines. she is used to the idea of dying. death has loomed inside her for years now, hibernating, waiting for spring, to wake & fatten Quote https://www.facebook.com/poetjohncompton Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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