deepundergroundpoetry.com
Patricia
taking your legacy
along with the hook
of a crochet needle
weaving wool
and wisdom --
the tools of survival
you clothed me
when I was born
in sweaters and hats
and baby blankets
stained with life:
vomit, excrement, saliva
my mother told me
as you laid dying
you were so cold
I should have made you a blanket.
along with the hook
of a crochet needle
weaving wool
and wisdom --
the tools of survival
you clothed me
when I was born
in sweaters and hats
and baby blankets
stained with life:
vomit, excrement, saliva
my mother told me
as you laid dying
you were so cold
I should have made you a blanket.
Published 15th Sep 2017
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15th Sep 2017 1:37am
Excellent, Muse.
The only thing that disrupted the beautiful flow of this for me were the end-stops in the final two lines.
The only thing that disrupted the beautiful flow of this for me were the end-stops in the final two lines.
In part, I agree, that's why I changed it and only put an end stop at final line. I think it is jolting and uncomfortable -- but in this I think that is how death is, and also the realization seems to come out of nowhere . . . Which is how it was for me
