RE: My mom is dying, going to need an ear.
March 10, 2017 at 6:31 pm
(This post was last modified: March 10, 2017 at 6:35 pm by Brian37.)
Solace In Pain, By Brian37
The hawk, the falcon
And the eagle
Spread their wings to glide
Looking for thermals to ease their flight
Above much higher epic proportion cotton
With slight grey underbelly
Some mimic popcorn, others slivers
Like slung paint of a Jackson Pollock
Calm day gives distance between them
They gently float by
As if drifters in a tropical
Lagoon
An iron bird dwarfed
In their mist
About to take cloak
Behind the white giants
Leaving it's mechanical fumes
As if we could defeat nature
And that tempest
Always arises
And it continues
Without my mom
That tempest
Always gets life
As clever as the tempest is
In finding us
In gutting our breath
Parting us painfully
Mom is that lagoon
That thermal
The hawk, the falcon
And eagle float on
The hawk, the falcon
And the eagle
Spread their wings to glide
Looking for thermals to ease their flight
Above much higher epic proportion cotton
With slight grey underbelly
Some mimic popcorn, others slivers
Like slung paint of a Jackson Pollock
Calm day gives distance between them
They gently float by
As if drifters in a tropical
Lagoon
An iron bird dwarfed
In their mist
About to take cloak
Behind the white giants
Leaving it's mechanical fumes
As if we could defeat nature
And that tempest
Always arises
And it continues
Without my mom
That tempest
Always gets life
As clever as the tempest is
In finding us
In gutting our breath
Parting us painfully
Mom is that lagoon
That thermal
The hawk, the falcon
And eagle float on
