Cousin Jean

From my smartphone
fear rings
through 
knock, rattle, hospital hospice sounds
We connect. 
Tonight all I can think about is your voice, Jean.
The last call.
Vibrations continue 
fading
ivory white and black keys 
notes play out 
on Dakota land 
snow and deep deep holes 
from roots dug out.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2020

Poem

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Warlov Avatar
October 21, 2024 at 3:53 PM
If "Dakota land" means you're "Indigenous" then, being a so-called "Hispanic", we share a point of camaradery as American Beings of another stripe. "All Men", as expressed in their "Founding Values", the equi•valence underpinning the moral character of a people is unequivocal to the character of their single God! Flung to Earth as equal creatures, and not one moment later able to agree on what is good or evil.
Greenhough Avatar
January 7, 2024 at 6:58 PM
This is so sad. Sorry for the loss of many years and the heart'aching memories.
Gauthier Avatar
March 5, 2020 at 8:42 PM
It's hard to see our loved ones go through difficult times. Great poem, Tamra.
Amato Avatar
March 6, 2020 at 3:02 AM
Line, Thanks again for commenting on another poem. You are so right about how hard it is to see our loved ones go through difficult times. Writing helps me and your comment too. Best wishes, Tamra
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