Still Life

“If you smell juice,”
Mother said,
“Do, please put on shine,
and whisper at me –
am having beauty sleep,
rusting from the sun.”

Together, when days cool,
or there about,
life be that still.

(Another magnetic poetry poem.  Play online.)

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Permission to write, paint, and imagine are the gifts I gave myself when chronic illness hit - a fair exchange: being for doing. Relevance is an attitude. Humour essential.

6 thoughts on “Still Life”

  1. This poem made me think of my mother, and her love of napping in the sun, sheltering from the wind, and ending up with sunstroke. I think it was the line “am having beauty sleep, rusting from the sun” I like that magnetic poetry, thank for introducing it to me.

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