#455 – “parade”

“parade”

 

here it comes

without

you

like some

hurtful

parade

 

where

childless mothers

and motherless children

walk

with raw hearts

unmade

 

filled all at once

with sorrow

and love

and longing

interwoven

like thread

 

as they march

a heartbreaking

Mother’s Day

with the ghosts

of their precious

dead

 

 

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About Blackbird

Poet, sculptor, jewelry maker, writer, spouse, parent, crazy person - not necessarily in that order.
This entry was posted in Brother, Children, Death, Family, Grieving, Life, Mother, Poetry and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to #455 – “parade”

  1. Mummzy says:

    This one evokes so much sadness. I could actually envision me walking in this parade. Did you notice the # 455 and the meaning it has in our lives and especially Michael’s?

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