by Irene Sedeora
I saw our motherís face
for a crisp moment as if
she was there with us
her love spilling over the sterility
of the room,
the steady drip of the IV tube,
the digital monitor with its occasional beep-beep.
My brother, for a transient moment
I saw our motherís face in yours
as you, with
lay waiting for morning
when the surgeons would open
your proud chest and reach your heart,
filled with a lifetime of excess.
Too fleeting the shimmer
revealed in the tilt of your head
your eyes becoming her wisdom
sifting into the room
from another realm.
Three hearts as one, beating.
We were together again.
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