“Oh don’t,” she said, “it's cold.”

“Oh don’t,” she said, “it's cold.”

*With my mother, Nov. 22, 2012.

“ I’m depressed

I’m old,”

I held her hand

“Oh don’t” she said,

“It's cold.”

 She said:

“Maybe I was aggressive

Maybe too passive

Perhaps it was something

That I needed to be told.”

I held her hand

“Oh don’t ,” she said

“it's cold.”

I said:

“But we love you,

What we once bought

Has now long been sold.”

I held her hand

“ Oh don’t,”  she said

“it's cold.”

She said:

“ What should I have seen?”

“What was I meant to be?”

“What could of pleasured me?”

I held her hand

“Too bad” she said

“it's warm now", but

“  oh, so old.”

Her hands

Gently broke

from me

And like spotted moths,

fluttered free.