turquoise eyes

we hold each others gaze

I memorize her face

while changing her clothes

her hair is unkempt, in swatch’s

radiation tattoos dot her left side

pancreatic cancer – hereditary – is

taking her away… too

sixty-four years old, stick thin

legs as fragile as her memory

my mother – suddenly my charge

her dry turquoise eyes dart back

and forth, searching, she’s anxious,

“my doll? my favorite doll!”

(hiding in the recesses of her mind)

hospice mentioned she may regress

become childlike

I cry softly when it happens

her voice…  high and small

“if we were sisters we would fight over dolls…”

my voice… soothing

“mmm and you have the best dolls don’t you, Beverly?”

she sighs… slowly smiles… “thank you mama

my turquoise eyes

dart back and forth


© 2003 lMc


About caliroe

playing in the mediums of poetry, photography, art and life. practicing the discipline of zen.

Posted on March 14, 2014, in poetry and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 2 Comments.

  1. Exquisite! You’ve brought back many memories of the slow loss of my mother and the shockingly abrupt loss of my father. If his poem could be any more powerful, it would have to come packaged with physical explosives. Thanks for sharing this lovely work.



    • Those personal losses can be difficult to translate on page, I didn’t know if this one was universal enough for others to connect with. You are very kind.
      I empathize with you over those losses… both mine are gone too.



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