Mom
Her lips once kissed away my salty tears,
and spoke comforting words in my ears.
They would brush against my fevered brow,
They’re coldly still and silent now.
Her hands once held my tear-stained face,
and smoothed stray hairs back in place.
Talented strokes, artistically blessed,
They’re folded neatly now upon her chest.
Her arms once kept my fears at bay,
and swung me around on happier day.
They hugged, carried and embraced me with pride.
They’re motionless now by her side.
Her legs kicked balls and danced with me.
They ran races, jumped rope and climbed trees.
The familiar sound of her leisurely gait,
They’re unbending now and solemnly straight.
Her bosom once harbored a calming beat,
Where I knew I could always retreat.
Where my sleepless head once found solace,
Now it’s silently still, frozen in place
Her clothes once held a comforting scent.
The soft smell made me feel content.
Playing dress up on a rainy day.
Now, crisply starched they will stay.
Her body’s cancer did unfurl,
and painfully took her from my world.
A closed lid now hides her frail frame.
Forever gone.
Mom is her name.
Copyright © Wanda Taylor | Year Posted 2005
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