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Mom Poem by Bill O’Connell 2013
AT THE COTTAGE IN TRURO
I ask my aging mother
“Do you fear death?”
Her lip quivers, “That’s
A silly question.”
I don’t ask her what she thinks
Is on the other side.
My sisters ask her: how come
You and Dad never fought?
“Because,” she says, “we never
discussed anything.”
I try to imagine that—
how much was undiscussed.
“Oh Billy,” she says, “stop putting me
in your poems!” “I can’t help it,”
I say, “you’re so funny.”
The grandkids argue about
Pepsi, Coke,… >>>