I found my Mother
In the encyclopdedia of the dead
They had given her a
Memorial
Where she had none
They said I could conjure
a gravestone;
Love and living wood.
I walk with angels
and stars of David
Blessings and time
heal all wounds.
Discovery, as fragile
as the seraphim's gaze.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment