I Love to Write

[b]Grey sky[/b]


The grey smoldering room
light rain shadowed to the wall
mother sitting small
Upon the upright couch

Her hair is as grey, as the
days sky, face full of rain
The world is about to stop
I try to say, but then

Two bright globes flash in
Through the shaded window
mother I am dying
I am trying to explain

I look down at my cup of tea
at the myriad colors
of swirling liquid and drink

there is lipstick on the rim
My fingers, unconsciously
travel to my fat lips
It can't be mine, can it

Mother, how can I explain
It is this room, this house
mother I will be dead soon

I hear the slam of a car door
the swift shuffling of feet
like the beating of wings
my heart skipping a beat

My farther, bursts Into the room
I love my father
Mother, forgive me.