Pink On Her Breath

With tired clasps that bind,
Cries- of joy after of life,
Nurse Martha: Congrats again ma,
Smell of bosom and milk in cuddle warmth.

Silence-
I smell pink on her breath,
Voicing in language colors speak;
Bleakness unending from zero to death.

Dancing- when I smell pink on her breath,
With uniforms too big, and bowls too full,
She tells me the story of the pink in her breath,
Lingering smell I forever wish.

And then colorless spills and why's?-
Lipstick and white dress and stillness and tears,
Groups that gather; people with preacher,
Latin utterances, hymns of requiem.
And tumid eyes watch cottoned nose through salty barriers.

Crescent-shaped smile as gaze land on boxed mama,
Such mixed feelings; attempted pacification,
'Rest in peace Mama' my hearty orison.
Boundless affection-

I still smell pink on her no breath.

By Howard M-B Maximus