Photo

 

Photo

I watched something on television

About death

The dead

The dying

 

I thought of

My mother

A photograph of her,

I saw not long ago

 

The terrifying maze,

Lines distorting her face

The startling spots,

Milky eyes

 

My mind became flooded

 Tender weave of images

Frightening and potent,

 Altogether self-centered

 

Do these words, these poems

 gather anything more than ego?

Do they wander any further, than

my own backyard?

RWR

Reviews

[John the Baptist]

This is a very interesting offering. A tv program about death brings to mind a maternal image, the speaker realizing that mother is old and will be departing before too many years have passed. The interesting part comes in the last two verses, where the speaker engages in what sounds like guilt for the "tender weave of images," presumably about the mother. I may be wrong, but I believe what has happened is that the thought of the mother's death has aroused the speaker's own realization of mortality, which is definitely uncomfortable. Don't feel bad,friend. It comes for us all and none of us like it. Well done work.