Poetricide

Rainbows, unicorns, sunsets

Lie dead at my feet

A mercy killing, really, to strengthen the genes

Of  poetry.

I guess one could call it — 

Poetricide…

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Spirit Mother

12-3-12, revised 7-20-13
Spirit Mother

There were three of us, little giggling bodies
that crowded on your lap.
You told us stories, you gave us drinks and snacks.
Enfolded in your warmth, we grew and then went off on our own
to conquer the big, wide world.
You gave us freedom to explore ourselves.
Later, we came back and–
One by one, we gathered around you to say good-bye, and hold your hand
as you passed to the other world.
We proudly share you now with the universe; you are everyone’s mother.