Tuesday, December 8, 2009

to dorothy now dead

for my mother 

who didn't make

it this far

i've walked after

you couldn't

and should've walked

farther but didn't

these are regretful tears

and no joy of man's desiring.

you misplaced the grave early

on and when i looked twice

you weren't there to give me clues

to find the sister i didn't know. 


(c) jim hill (5-11-09)

1 comment:

Danna Hobart said...

I was slightly confused by this poem, but the overall feel of it put a lump in my throat.