Tag: mother
member name: Terry Collett
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September 16, 2008 01:25 PM EDT --
She would have placed the baby
In the center of her heart
And not allowed the stealthy
Death to come, but death came in
The depth of night, hidden by
The shadows of the dim lit
Dark; the . . .
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December 08, 2008 03:03 AM EST --
She opened the door
Of the nursery
And entered in.
All was quite now,
No sound,
Nothing except
The beating
Of her heart
Which beat faster
As she peered
In the baby's cot
Which was empty . . .
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February 12, 2008 05:22 PM EST --
She wondered
If other mothers
Felt the same
When their baby died:
Dull, dark and empty,
As if part of them
Had been torn away,
Buried in another place,
Far off in some foreign ground; . . .
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May 30, 2008 04:16 AM EDT --
And she crossed the room Hoping the baby Would be there, and that Maybe she got it
Wrong those months ago And that the cot would Be full again with Sound and movement and
That baby . . .
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December 24, 2008 05:00 PM EST --
Rose Ripweed miscarried her fifth child.
Rose stared into the empty space
Of her life and counted on her worn fingers
The nightly loves now gone to waste.
Rose carried the memory
Of each and . . .
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February 16, 2009 03:38 PM EST --
And she'd go there nights
Into her daughter's room
With the bright
Moonlight
Pointing out
The little bed
Where a few
Months before
Her small girl
Lay dead
And even now
. . .
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October 05, 2007 03:50 PM EDT --
Sometimes she sits and broods
And knows the darkly moods
Will pull her down
And let her drown
In memories unlocked
From dark rooms. Nothing blocked
From the sad days and hours.
All this . . .
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December 11, 2007 03:38 AM EST --
Yes, that’s my son,
I recognize his manly brow
And vacant stare,
And his turn of chin,
But how thin
He looks, how unkempt,
As if time has not rewarded
His youthful age
With fine laurel . . .
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February 20, 2008 04:03 PM EST --
Night and the stars shine
You are there my little babe
Who died in my womb.
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August 25, 2008 12:33 PM EDT --
He entered the room.
"It's your son, Tony,
Mrs Picello,"
The young carer said.
He sniffed up the air,
Sniffed his mother, too.
No smell of piss or
Puke as other old
Folk . . .
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February 03, 2009 01:46 AM EST --
She can almost pinpoint
To the moment
Her baby died,
The second's tick;
The whole room;
The window
Where some cloud
Had drifted by,
The faces of those
Who had come to help,
. . .
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December 03, 2009 10:35 AM EST --
Remember the first Time she brought him Home? He had the flowers,
Chocolates, the smiles, Soft words and the patting Of heads and the demeanour
Of maybe a gentle pushover For you girls. . . .
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November 22, 2007 08:08 AM EST --
Remembering it
Like it was yesterday
With the stiff necked father
And broken mother
And the lusty girl
From across the river
Sniffing around him
Like some damned cat
And mother saying not . . .
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February 02, 2008 04:02 AM EST --
"If she'd got herself with kid
By any other feller than that there Brodskyn,
I'd a tanned her hide
The colour of the setting sun,"
Magdalene Mogfish's daddy said,
Looking . . .
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February 28, 2008 03:54 PM EST --
It was the door slam
That did it each time,
The kids ran and hid
In beds or cupboards
Until the danger passed
Or their mother took
Blame and pasting
From their father's hands;
The . . .
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April 23, 2009 02:19 AM EDT --
Some days she doesn't think
Of baby's death, some days,
If other troubles or worries
Crowd her in. Sometimes,
If the mood is strong
And memories flood her mind,
She takes a . . .
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December 03, 2009 08:42 AM EST --
“My baby brother died on Easter Day,” said Sister Elizabeth, “his arms outstretched stiff in his cot like some miniature Christ. My mother found him and it broke her heart; she clutched . . .
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December 08, 2009 02:22 PM EST --
“I squeeze the rosary tight in the palm of my hand to sense the pain of Christ in my flesh, His blood mingles with mine. The beads are swollen with prayers; the fingered wood; the sweaty palms . . .
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April 24, 2008 03:28 AM EDT --
The baby was her first,
The first she had held;
Held so close to her breast,
Sensed the little hand
Reach out and touch,
Felt the tiny fingers
Tickle the teat; smelt
The baby smell,
. . .
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August 26, 2009 12:06 PM EDT --
Men will watch paint dry If it reminds them of women Undressing, your mother once said, Lying back in her bed, in reply to Your talk of your husband’s failings.
That was one of many utterances . . .
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