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Patricia Prosvirnin Poem
A warm fuzzy thought
in a golden globe of yesterday
shrimp cocktail
white wine
roast turkey with stuffing
green beans amandine
glazed carrots
creamy mashed potatoes
gravy
rolls
pecan pie
mile high strawberry pie
coffee
Her menu written out
on a small square from a
white rectangular notepad
In a thoughtful script
Black pen strokes
All caps
She carried out the order
with brutal precision
And by mealtime seated at the
Head of the Table to my left
All eyes turned inward
She plucked the praise from our mouths
before we had time to savor the flavor of her
labor
And it was good
So very good
Afterwards she crept into the
Smallest recesses of her Soul
hoping no one would scold her
for being so good
so very good
Thank you for all the wonderful meals,
Mama.
Copyright © Patricia Prosvirnin | Year Posted 2014
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Patricia Prosvirnin Poem
I saw a little light go by
it curled around your face
a wisp of smoke
a spoken word
it colored all the same
this little light
it stung my eye
like an angry honeybee
its poison swelled within my heart
and filled my soul
with glee
Copyright © Patricia Prosvirnin | Year Posted 2014
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Patricia Prosvirnin Poem
I don’t know
said she to the stone
as the tear rolled down
the long and lonely road
home
let me roll over
and make myself a home
the stone lay silent
still as the night
the stone lay awake
in the middle of the light
slowly she told it her story
etched with her bare and frail bones
She watched it arise
to make itself known
she glanced at the stone
and no longer saw
the image of barren gray granite
marbled black with many days
the space between she and the stone
grew thin and cold
as she and the
stone had become one and very old
Copyright © Patricia Prosvirnin | Year Posted 2014
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Patricia Prosvirnin Poem
oh my she sighed
with stardust in
her eyes
languid liquid
dreams
streaming out
in colorful
screams
oh my
she died
lifted out
her soul
and cried
handed back
a little rose
plucked of thorns
petals out of ground
falling
silently
softly
around
the halo of death
glowed beautifully
in the sky
while
we circled the moon and sighed
lost for the meaning looking as our
lives
Copyright © Patricia Prosvirnin | Year Posted 2014
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Details |
Patricia Prosvirnin Poem
The hoary frost of old age
Lays upon my head like a
Quiet Stone
Its heaviness crumbles
While I sleep
Little pieces of my
Life, drifting away into waves of
Salty Dreams
The Air I breathe
Lifts the skies from the Horizons
Holds them Still
The puddles undulating down the
Mountainsides
My arms wrapped
Around the Sun
Eclipsed Moon at
Midnight
Staring deeply into a
Black Universe
that ends along
the Silver Edges of an
Eternal Night
Copyright © Patricia Prosvirnin | Year Posted 2014
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