21 April 2010

While Writing Poetry

by Paul Gustav Spohn

Often times by the reading light of sunshine
Through the window blinds
Sitting by my chair
My mother
Long gone
Stares at my shadow of youth
And in the fragile moment
Of death and beyond
I coax out a sigh
That once to her belonged
That she could read what I am
Writing now
In verse
Past tense
Making something of this memory
Some sense
And hoping I am
Within a beacon of her approval
That smile she always
Shared with me
While writing poetry

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