You were born on August the 2nd of 1948.
Your death was sad and hard to contemplate.
Today would've been your birthday but you didn't survive.
If you hadn't died, today you would've turned seventy-five.

Your death was a very painful thing that I was forced to experience.
It was hard to accept your demise because it ended your existence.
You gave money to the homeless because you loved to give.
You were the greatest mother on the planet while you lived.

It was so sad to learn that you were going to die.
And it was very painful when I had to say goodbye.
I wanted you to survive but I didn't get my way.
You were my mom and I wish you a happy birthday.

"I promise you I will blah..."
"I promise you I won't blah..."
"I promise you this blah..."
"I promise you that blah..."
"I won't blah..."
"I will blah..."

"If someday I lose you, I won't find someone else" blah...

I am overcome with
a state I fail to name

It is you I suffer from,
it is you I burn for

We watch
The dandelion clocks
Shake their perfect orbs
And release
Their seeds
To dance away
And flower again
Another day.