Life Leaving

I may some day think

of my mother as mute

because the years are taking

her voice away.

 

She never said

"yes"

or "no"

when I gave her

permission to die.

 

She did not respond

with words

when I told her

that she had done

all that she could do

for her children.

 

Her eyes

are what I most remember

about that evening.


They were grateful.

 

And all I hear,

sometimes,

is the sound

of life leaving her,

two days later.

 

And her world is

silent and serene,

like the muted light

that came through the shade

of the hospital window.

 

2/11/94

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