i don’t think of you lying in dark clay waiting
even though just days ago
you closed your eyes
and wouldn’t move
even though i felt your heart's last beat
and begged you and god
for just a little more of your time
i see you kneeling in your garden
surrounded by yellow flowers, cats, foxes and racoons
holding dark earth in one hand, a bulb in the other
turning to me
chattering
about how glorious – and that is your word, not mine –
how glorious that the bulb will blossom
humbly unaware
or unconcerned
with your participation
in that glory.
Writings by Esteban A. Martinez, poetry, fiction, rants, speculation and whatever else we want to call writing
Monday, January 30, 2006
My Mother Died
On January 8, 2006, at 2:40 p.m., my mother died at Denver Health (the old Denver General Hospital). I was with her when she died, my hand on her heart. I pray that God did not allow her to die but instead scooped her to heaven and embraced her. I also hope to see her again.
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