National Poetry Month–Poetry to My Mother
Wax crayons, guitar pics, stained glass, oils, pastels, charcoal, dark wine, gin, plum cordial-You in a coma, under your skin blood surfacing, ugly purple blotches-In death you are not creative-In death you are ugly, and it doesn’t matter if I color outside the lines in black, and it doesn’t matter if the guitar strings snap, or that I am alive and can write-Red crayon scrawling over your works-“Do Like this, like this, no like THIS!”-I broke your pics and brushes, watered down your gin, danced wild around the plum tree. You sang zippitee-do-da.
~poem by Kim Nixon
Posted on April 17, 2009, in National Poetry Month, The Long Haul and Other Poems and tagged Cirrhosis, mother daughter poems, National Poetry Month, tragic poems. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.