42

The first poem in a collection I am writing about my Mom, who passed at the tender age of 42 -- when I was 21.

Frailty sets in
Delicately you rise
Slow, no move without purpose
Every breath lingers
Suspended, awaiting resolve
A pause, a guiding hand
Unspoken prayers dangle from your lips

Pain and exhaustion take hold
A grimace, gasp, desperate plea
The mood is pervasively stale
The house is unwelcoming,
Pale, not unlike your once Cherokee-inspired ivory skin
Eyes dark, which once glowed with flickering embers, are ringed
Like a perfectly aged tree, celebrating its age

Confusion seeps in
Quickly you fall
Fast, every move without control
Every breath labors
Dissipated, aspiring rebirth
A lingering kiss, cupped hands
Pleading prayers soar to the Heavens

Peace and hope grasp at the air
Gentle smile, soft words under your breath
Eyes that have seen their last moments
Illuminated the last heart
Lost to the world forever
Branded on my memory

Your Dad, he's here, guiding you
A wisp of your graying hair
A kiss of your cheek,
Colder, the end stirs
The room frozen
Three generations await
Answers that will one day come
When frailty sets in

(c) Tracey Gould. All Rights Reserved. 2014.

Reviews

[SAYED THANGAL]

the beauty of the poem lies in exhibiting the lively images that connect to the ever loving memories.
really it's a thought provoking poem, all the best
sayed

[Alira]

I absolutely love the tree simile for eyes, but I wish you would include more figurative language throughout your works. You could definitely add a simile at "You breath lingers / suspended like ..." and "Your dad, he's here, guiding you / like ... / a wisp of your....."

Just some suggestions! =)