Mother's Birthday

I sit against her white, spotted dress,

Cascading down her thighs.

Her hair is dull and fizzled,

But her eyes are daring bright. 

She reads to me a story, 

Just before she says,

"Promise me my darling,

You won't miss me when I'm dead." 

Those words I could not understand,

When I was only three;

But now I know them clearly 

And her memory is surely with me.

I still remember my weeping dad,

Hugging me tight and close.

All I could do was wipe his tears,

And kiss away his strokes.

I promised her that dreadful day,

That I will take care of him.

He will never fall in love again,

Nor commit his previous sins.

But what am I to do now,

When the rain comes pouring down?

For all I can say on this day of your death..

Is "Happy Birthday Mom.."

Reviews

[Ammy Greaves]

I felt the strong emotion in this poem, like I experienced it with you. Very moving.

[Seraph]

Thank you.