my mother writes poetry about
her mother.

she writes about age,
memory loss, senility,
about watching her mother's
mind disintegrate, about
not remembering
names, faces, dates, childhoods
not knowing
recipes to dishes she has cooked
everyday, laughing
at things she has no comprehension of
anymore: the television, soap,
remote controls, shoelaces.

"she can still read," my mother says
so they read together:
the vishnu sahasranamam.
"she thinks she can sing" my mother says
so they listen to her sing.

i wonder if i
will have the strength
to write poetry

No comments: