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Reverence
by
Joan Howard

 
Wild unknown berries, red, outspread
in panicles to sun, bird's eye,
or slash-pine needles, circling, soft
at ends of branches, suspended dew,
that silent offering, exposed
shared ardent life, impatient thrust.
Slow final illness, rattled gasps,
oblivious to death's abuse,
my mother's last words: "Orange juice."
--Submitted by Joan M. Howard on 2012-10-05.
Post New Comment:
Amber:
This is touching.
Posted 02/20/2013 08:27 AM


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