With the grace of a queen
My mother lowers her creaking body
Into the same old wooden throne
At the same old kitchen table
Just a second later she sighs,
Breathes heartbreak the color of the ocean
But somehow it fades to gray
With the grace of a queen
My mother lowers her creaking body
Into the same old wooden throne
At the same old kitchen table
Just a second later she sighs,
Breathes heartbreak the color of the ocean
But somehow it fades to gray
I write poetry, prose, and personal pieces. All images are mine unless indicated otherwise. Feel free to leave feedback on my work anytime; I hope you enjoy.