Flaw

The big hand is on the ten,
The little hand is on the six.
Telling my mom and 
feeling smart at age four.

My mother's smile
exposes her affection,
and I love my mother.

I was a happy kid, but
a flaw in my chemistry
grew like a cancer,
enveloping my whole self,
leaving me charred,
hard to look at
hard to accept
hard to express affection

hard to know what to do.

Mom has gone.
While remembering 
what I put her through,
I feel a huge, infected ball
Inside my gut.

Purpose

Naked and crying at birth.
Wrinkled like dried fruit at death.

Being cared for with 
baby lotion and
family to love.

To emergency rooms,
Stacks of Medical files.
Xrays and test results.

Therapy notes
Written by someone 
assigned to bring me joy.
and to support me.

Real friends 
who share laughter

Trying to prolong 
Our visit to this world.

In the end
all these important things,
go six feet under.
Why?

JoAnne

As I stumbled blindly down
my troubled path,
reaching for someone to trust,
your gentle, soft perfumed hand
held on to me.
Guiding me.

We shared laughter, emotions,
personal things.
Many years
you helped me survive
and more.
You taught me to enjoy.

I have learned of your recent passing,
I still want to share
If you could see me now,
somehow
I'd give you a holler
"Look at me, JoAnne,
See how far I've come."