She sat limp in her rocker listening to T.V.
These were all the possessions she owned
from a life that used to be.
No appointments to keep.
No dancing to beats.
Gone was the purse with important things.
No fancy this or that, no lipsticks or sprays,
but plenty of time to pray.
Her hair glistened of silver, but in no fancy do.
A cotton gown dawned her body so frail
in a dull color of blue.
Not long ago she proudly wore frocks
of fine linen and lace,
with dainty curls and tiny swirls
caressing her lovely face.
"This is what it has all come to", I thought.
She looks so all alone.
There sat my friend, my mentor, my mom,
now in a nursing home.
If I could take you home, I surely would
but that is not a possibility.
I will see you tomorrow and the days after
that you can always rely on me.
In the Whirlwind is a poetic storm that frees history from the cages of corruption and puts it in the hands of everyday people. Words are weaved into a new fashion statement that has nothing to do with runways but everything to do with projects!
God Bless
Michelle~