My Mother

Poem

I remember that my mother died and we buried her -
She had survived so much
But I will not explain any of it to you -
Her struggles - her memory
Is not yours to carry

It is enough to say that - like the rest of us, she was what the world made her - she lived and I was allowed , for a time to live in her light- in all that she was

After she passed I realize that i didn't know a lot about bullets but I knew more about holes - how some are never filled not even by time