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My mother's body

Rating: 5.0
1.

The dark socket of the year
the pit, the cave where the sun lies down
and threatens never to rise,
when despair descends softly as the snow
covering all paths and choking roads:

then hawkfaced pain seized you
threw you so you fell with a sharp
cry, a knife tearing a bolt of silk.
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COMMENTS
Dr Antony Theodore 23 July 2020
The angel folded you up like laundry your body thin as an empty dress. Your clothes were curtains hanging on the window of what had been your flesh and now was glass. A wonderful poem and great imagination. tony
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Edward Kofi Louis 23 July 2020
The mask of the skin! ! To ask a question! Akin to life, Muse of your kin! ! ! ! Muse of your mother in your mind. Thanks for sharing this poem with us.
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Abdul Basit 23 July 2020
Really brilliant poem
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