Wind blows through the screen <br />as breakfast cools by her bed <br />I touch her shoulder <br />she's lifeless <br /> <br />Alone again you and I mother, <br />you must awake <br />so few summers left <br /> <br />Can you sit with me and we <br />will trace our moments <br />on yellowed paper <br /> <br />I clutch her wrist <br />she remains in dreams <br />eyes sealed weary with age <br /> <br />Awake mother <br />the racing in my heart <br />needs the ritual prayers of old <br /> <br />Shall we say a 'Hail Mary' <br />together <br /> <br />I lift her to sit <br />she gazes without smile <br />but obediently eats <br />eyes open weary with age <br /> <br />The wind blows <br />and I and memories <br />whisper our prayer alone <br />under white oleander skies<br /><br />Marcia Schechinger<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/praying-under-white-oleander-skies/
