White Plaster, In memory of my beloved Dad~October 2, 2000 Options

[Aphrodite]

You lie there, solid and firm,
as onlookers gawk and comment
on how good you turned out.

They did such a good job, they whisper,
like white plaster thrown on hard walls,
you just take it.

How you love to hold hands, but not your own,
the Rosary Beads d r a p e loosely cross
spindly fingers, like drops from tears cried dry.

In the bed you made, you lie cold,
a hard box unlike the feathery soft
mattress you once fell into.

Consumed by a lifelong toxic cloud,
sucking in, you lie ravaged and still.

Oh, but for just one more breath of clean air.