Treasure Island

David McLansky

(5/24/1944 / New York City)

After the Second Child's Death


After the Second Child's Death,
There was no more lying;
Prayers could not
Summon one more breath,
A mother's crying;
Out beyond the static void
Was only Space,
Emptiness beckoned
Without a human face,
Gently smiling;
How soundless was the basement
Where she was stored;
Stacked in cabinet shelves
The Doctors called the Morgue.
In death she did not look
Peaceful,
But waxen, bored.

Submitted: Thursday, December 06, 2012
Edited: Friday, December 07, 2012

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  • Owain Glyn (12/17/2012 3:42:00 AM)

    I have read both of these poems, and though they deal with passing they are neither sentimental nor cold. A clear perceptive write. (Report) Reply

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