Mom’s Passing
Cheryl Lynn Moyer
There’s not enough air to breathe
All our pain
Real and imagined
Mental and physical
Is rising up from our DNA
Rushing through our cell walls
Pouring down from our veins
Like a gushing spout
With stripped threads
Nothing can stop this blood
Coursing, coursing, coursing
Through generations of flesh
Welded to it’s kinfolk
Eye to eye, memory to memory
Birth to death
We all imagine ourselves to be seperate
Islands onto ourselves
Until one of us passes
Then the vacuum demands
This living breathing coursing blood
Streaming like a river
Washing away the pain
Making the air fresh
To breathe again
