Lynda, Is It Alright To Tell You? |
Your skin does not turn blue. No,
the delicate crinkle of your right hand
and forearm as it lays nestled into the crease
of your pillow, has turned an exquisite
shade of amethyst.
Do you want to know? It matches
the gemstone ring on your finger,
its setting a fire
that I have twisted outward on occasion
to admire and reflect your inner beauty,
echoes of those many years
you played the piano.
Do you see the violet tinge?
Your eyelids slightly parted,
flickering now and then to the sound of my voice.
I’m remembering aloud the other day
when you audibly said yes
to a teaspoon of my vanilla milkshake.
Then last night, how you formed memories
with your daughter as she gently brought
that final cup of Bengal Spice Latté to your lips.
These are my last few minutes here with you.
And as your 89 years of perpetual breathing
slowly subside and peacefully cease,
the iridescence returns to your flesh. Yes,
as you let go, Lynda, like the poetic muse
of the surrealist, the gemstone shades
of your skin begin to make sense.
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Donna Hill is co-creator and poetry editor of Erosha, an online literary journal of sensual muse and artwork. Her poems have been published internationally in journals and in six book anthologies. Donna's last chapbook, As Girlfriends Will, As Women Do, was released by Plowman Press in 2002 and her latest, Driving Through Baghdad, was published by Little Poem Press in 2004. Her poetry site can be found at www.donnamichelehill.com.