the mourning

The mourning

It was an early morning

The day before Christmas

The phone rang

I reluctantly answered

Your mother is dead.

I couldn’t get a flight

Took the dog for a walk

In the woods,

But this day she walked close to me

And didn’t hunt rabbits.

Coming home

I sat by the bed and cried.

At Chrismas Eve

I gave my dog a cream cake

When thinking of my mother

when she was at her best.

◄ Pascal

the weakling ►

Comments

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afishamongmany

Sat 25th May 2019 18:01

Simple - poignant - earthed. Thank you Jan ><>

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