Tzipora Knock

Ostriching - Poem by Tzipora Knock

ostriching gets quite exhausting
i wonder if it's genetic
she cleans the mirror, makes the bed
an avoidance epidemic
she cannot see her balding head
denial clouds her senses
the house is neat, the baby's fed
she's built herself some fences
and I must deal with It instead
alone, she's busy shopping
blond curly hair has long been shed
the path of Death will not be stopping
her body's frail
her face is pale
but she's still buried in the sand
tears cascade my tired cheeks
i hold tight her stilling hand
death now perched at the head of her bed
a coldness whispers through the room
she never thought to say goodbye
my mother never knew

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Poem Submitted: Sunday, May 9, 2010

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