the last time

i made your hospital bed the last time today,
mum,
where you used to lay,
your pale face waxen against white sheets,
as you wondered who i was.

i removed the flowers from your bed the last time today,
mum,
where you used to smell them when you were well
and smiled at them when you weren’t.

i walked out your hospital room for the last time today,
mum,
and closed the door for the last time,
nodded at the receptionist for the last time.

i saw you for the last time today,
mum,
you looked like you were just sleeping
as they lowered you into the ground
but your hands were so cold
and your eyes didn’t open.

i will always talk to you,
mum,
even if you aren’t here in person
and i don’t know if you are looking at me
from the heavens,
but i think you would be proud of me.

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