Tuesday, 10 May 2016

Good bye to a mother

I can easily recall him saying
'hun' and 'bab'
across a crowded room
mixture of New England and Old Ghetto makes that voice
now passing as well

And seven sisters turning sunning saying
And one son
Part Jew, part Cowboy

It takes longer to remember all sixteen grandchildren
all equal she did adore
saying 'grandma'
without the duty I always heard the word before

But then the rest of us
Oh the lucky rest of us
who got to say the most beautiful word  ever heard
Just 'Janet' and 'Janet' and 'Janet' until the end of time
alone it stands without an equal and without a rhyme.

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