Mother
My hand drawn happy faces on our napkins
would fade as their smiles wiped your tears,
late at night while you packed peanut butter
& jelly sandwiches, in my school lunch box.
Older I have grown but your tears renew
each day the Black Dog maniacally persists,
ripping to shreds the last of my fragile youth,
and despite his presence, I soothe you to sleep.
The ageless stray mutt menace leads recklessly,
so in the neon-lit room, limp you now lay on a bed.
I gulp bile back as the suction pump whirs inside you,
your gaze cast downward, into our tightly held hands.
Mother, when I see that look in your eyes,
I know that you're my only child.
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