Though bugs do not leap up and yell
They know death came close by
Though impossible to tell
I think I saw one's mothet cry
               Their thanks is silent

Though you not met the farmer
Know he's grateful as is the cow
He warmed his hamds not to alarm her
You bought his milk and how
               Their passion's violent

Though I send no gift but words
Know them to be sincere
Would I could fly with birds
And whisper this poem to your ear,
                You are magnificent.

She was once solid
Determined to get the highest marks:
#1 in her class, trying to exceed all expectation

Medicine was her dream; okay with dead bodies and curious as to how they got that way

She came to this country to find something

She was solid
Community college was too expensive
And her bulging belly preceded her whimsical marriage

Her two children, she loved dearly for a good portion of time

Her husband, not so, not faithful, not whole was her love for him; he was all she couldn't be he was solid

She came to every PTA meeting and every class trip
Too attached

She was liquid
She became those around her, those moms at PTA meetings

Sneaking liquor on school busses heading to Disney World; pretending they love their hardworking husbands
And leaving their children

She began to have other aspirations
Dead people didn't fancy her anymore, sanguine faces was all she knew
She was liquid

She let her children go, so young, so foolish
Not whole

The oldest was most appalled and began to act out by not acting out

The oldest was locked away for a bit; the youngest still loved her mothet so sweetly, so faithfully

She was clay
Her friends-which change every year or so
Have molded her
And she is solid

every shining was illuminated around the
like stars

every breeze cool
like wind

every touch is sweet
like mothet hand

every smile warms
like your lips