Mother, Edith, at 98
Edith,
in this nursing home you're
blind
with macular degeneration─
I
come to you with your blurry
eyes,
crystal sharp mind,
your
countenance of grace─
as
yesterday's winds,
I
have chosen to consume you
and
take you away.
"Oh,
Jesus, where did
you
disappear to,"
she
murmured over and over again
in
a low voice
dripping
words
like
a leaking faucet:
"Oh,
there He is, my
Angel
of the coming."
Video
Link of Poem--https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n0x5K-qL9do
Michael Lee Johnson is a poet, editor, publisher,
freelance writer, amateur photographer, small business owner in Itasca,
Illinois. He has been published in more than 880 small press
magazines in 27 countries, and he edits 10 poetry sites. Michael is
the author of TheLost American: From Exile to Freedom, several
chapbooks of poetry, including From Which Place the Morning Rises and Challenge
of Night and Day, and Chicago. See his website for more about him http://poetryman.mysite.com/
Michael, I am not sure if you are new to Whispers or not, but if you are, let me be the first here to post a warm welcome! I so much enjoyed your poem and enjoyed even more the audio presentation at Youtube. "Mother, Edith, at 98" is very touching. Thank you for sharing it and continued blessings!
ReplyDelete-MJ (www.tgbtgpublictions.com)
The moment the poem was understood, there was this intriguing experience of my own mortality. This work Is a great achievement. Thank you for sharing. Ralph
ReplyDeleteWow!
ReplyDeleteMichael,
ReplyDeleteA very encouraging write. Your mother may be in a nursing home facility but the fact you are willing to take her home and care for her shows what a kind-hearted person you are. I honestly don't know how you find he time to edit 10 poetry sites!! And the fact you have been in 27 countries is astounding too.
Your friend,
David Fox