To my mother on her 65th birthday
Drinking the bitter hemlock of life,
tired, under the cloudy skies
pregnant with cold rain,
I imagine you are still a phone call away,
out there, breathing the same air as I,
walking on the same earth as I,
alive, at this ever-fleeting moment of now,
and that I just can't reach you -
like I can't reach you through
these years that you have been lost to us.
29.05.2016
#Poem #Poems #Poetry #Verse
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