For my own poor health
the truth must be told –
my mother, I remember,
was heaviest, the faintest –
sinking the small pulse
of life within me.
I later roused myself –
dreaming over the cool
night air in the suburbs.
I turned again to
my mother, my sister –
but I was the sole
survivor
of the family.
(Poetry by Maranda Russell)
Haunting and beautiful.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Glad you liked it!
LikeLiked by 1 person
I understand.
LikeLiked by 1 person
♥
LikeLiked by 1 person
Poignant!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you!!!
LikeLiked by 1 person
My pleasure 😇
LikeLiked by 1 person
Small steps and a long view, making it daily.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yes ♥
LikeLiked by 1 person
A nice poem and excellent art work 🙂 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you!
LikeLiked by 1 person
So beautiful!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Glad you liked it!
LikeLiked by 1 person
This was a beautifully heartfelt poem! Loved it 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Glad you liked it!
LikeLiked by 1 person