august twenty-five
death gathers
her wings spread wide
your mother’s body
to hide
soft, you ask
soft, you pray
in the morning rain
that pours tears
on the world
awash
cleansing us all
as one soul she prepares
stainless again
as at birth
in this place of
illusion that is
and is not
life and death reflect
so quaint in place
so carefully wrought
that their melding
brings surprise and not
when your mother’s breath
no longer warms
and steams the mirror
dementia’s delight will shatter
and there reflecting pure
will be her face, her smile
her wave goodbye
~ Anne Sorbie
Anne Sorbie was born in Paisley, Scotland and she lives and writes in Calgary. Her work has appeared in journals such as The Wascana Review, Alberta Views, Geist, and Other Voices, and in the anthology, Home and Away. Anne’s first novel, Memoir of a Good Death (Thistledown Press 2010) was on the long-list for the 2012 Alberta Readers’ Choice Award.
You can read more poems by Anne here.
This poem was read by Anne on November 2,2014, as part of the RE:act Art & Community Together Plus 15 Poetry Shuffle!
Leave a Reply