Impressionable Experiences

How Mommy Died

"Death's Shroud"

1993

Mother,

Where has,

the artist,

gone?

I miss her,

everyday.

Dear mother,

Where may,

we find her?

This world is,

missing her,

every hour.

She seems to have fallen,

through those cracks,

into which one becomes,

obsolete.

Oh how do I summon her,

or am I too late?

Does she live or die,

I don't know why,

but I feel that her grave,

has been dug years ago.

The dirt isn't fresh,

and the grass grown over.

That artist's soul,

must have departed, years before.