Mourning in the morning
is more difficult than at night
since
your ghost is visible in the daylight,
said the woman, hands folded, as if reciting a prayer,
to the aide
sliding a comb
through her once shiny,
thick hair.
You know you can’t hide inside that disguise!
She tugs his white coat, ’til he’s level with her eyes.
I watch how you nibble at the corners of your lips.
And that arch of one brow?
Makes my heart do back flips.
Even though
on your headstone
it reads
– 1945 –
I marvel
at how you’ve grown so tall
and can still be so alive.
Accustomed to her state of mind, the aide exhales a sigh.
He places his tool
on the bedside stool
prepared for her usual reply:
Listen to your mother, you impudent knave!
Return to me now and I’ll tend to your grave…
Mourning in the morning
is more difficult than at night
since
your ghost is visible in the daylight,
said the woman, hands folded, as if reciting a prayer,
to the aide
sliding a comb
through her once shiny,
thick hair.
Donna Gwinnell Lambo-Weidner 
huh?
LikeLike
Yearning for a lost child that never had the chance to grow up and seeing hints of him in her caretaker’s face at the end of her life when her mind is all discombobulated at times 😦 The unattended graves in on part of a cemetery in France was the inspiration. It was all so sad looking.
LikeLike
Wow!
so ghosts are visible in the daylight? Is that when you see your ghosts?
loved this one….. 🙂
LikeLike
There’re always around 🙂 Thanks for stopping by Debbie!
LikeLike
I’ll have to think about this one. Interesting thought.
LikeLike
Yeah, it’s a little out there, I know. I appreciate you’re giving it the time, Don. 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person