deepundergroundpoetry.com

Last Word
On her bed of pain
my ailing aunt
small as a child
wan as a moon
at the first light
of dawn
whimpered softly
she moaned in her groan
hurt in her pain
cry out softly
'...Mamma...'
she died at 9.15pm
Thursday
she was 89.
my ailing aunt
small as a child
wan as a moon
at the first light
of dawn
whimpered softly
she moaned in her groan
hurt in her pain
cry out softly
'...Mamma...'
she died at 9.15pm
Thursday
she was 89.
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