Thursday, July 13, 2017

Jeremy Seligson writes

She is sitting 
on a rock 
enjoying the sunshine 
up on the mountain 
and greets me  
with a smile 
and a young voice 
which belies her white hair. 
“When I was 23," 
she tells me, 
“My mother got in  
an automobile accident 
so I stayed at home 
taking care of her 
for 35 years. I bathed 
and fed her, carried her 
to the hospital. 
She would say,  
'Who are you!?' 
and get upset. 
She died last year. 
All my friends 
have gone away."
“How could you bear it?” 
“She was my mother.”
 Old Woman -- Marta M. Tomosy-Herman

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