AT HER DEATH-BED

by

(In Memoriam: for Eugenie, my mother)

Her honey-coloured cheeks, grown pale with death,

Cold to my touch like a dew-wetted stone --

Their beauty faded, aged, lacking breath,

Were scrolls of skin draped loosely over bone.

In wracking pain, I knelt beside the bed

On which she lay in death's eternal night,

And wept a flood of tears about her head,

While moths droned mournfully in candle-light,

And shadows grieved like sorrows on the floor,

And voices swelled within the outer room

In elegies and hymns unheard before.

In humble love, I made my heart her tomb ...

And grateful tongues composed her epitaphs

With simple, heart-felt words that glowed with praise.

Kind strangers craned through windows like giraffes,

Then murmuring sadly, went their separate ways;

And through the pall of grief, I seemed to hear

A soft voice saying: "My child, do not weep.

Your mother always had been kind and fair

To everyone! Her love was rooted deep

In understanding, and she was so dear

In always being there with a helping hand;

She's earned a place in Heaven; have no fear.

Someday, you'll meet her in a better land."

I whispered "Amen." to the halcyon voice

That stilled the storm of sorrows in my heart.

Around the lights, the moths seemed to rejoice.

In me, a song of gladness strove to start --

And in the room, her spirit seemed to stir.

The clock ticked time's eclipse, but not for her.

NEXT?
Why don't you look at Have You?
by: Joe Fazio
from: Beverly Hills, CA, US

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