My Mother's Bible
The year before her death
My mother underlined
Those verses in the book
She thought explained her pain.
She dated final months
In promises that told
Of One who knows and cares.
Of One who sees past woe.
Her last typewritten words,
A single line of thought,
Spoke final loneliness
The book could not assuage.
Her agony blamed me,
Which was not her intent,
Of fearful distances
Made palpable by death.
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