I: the mother I sit by your side as sleep blossoms within you, unfolding like a morning glory at dawn. Long ago the doctors sent you home. Friends no longer come to visit; they have children of their own to care for. twenty-nine years you have lain here. never…
Tag: aging
when frost comes early to a widow’s garden
worrying about her roses the old woman glanced through window panes. she wrung her hands, wrought with frantic agitation. such beautiful blooms took time and tender care. she stood feebly upon her frail legs, twisted like dogwood. hobbling, wheezing, she trudged across her floor like swamp moss….
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