You’ve joined my silent dead: doesn’t matter
whether you speak or not. You’d like this song
and be jealous of the skills. I yammer
to my dead, the number rising strong.
At sixty I declare that I am middle aged
Mom dies at sixty-one which feels unfair.
My sister dies at forty-nine, cancer rage.
I watched them both as chemo takes their hair.
You too are dead no words across the breach.
I yammer to you daily in my head.
Agates gleam, treasure on the beach.
You refuse to look, I mourn that you act dead.
You sit stubborn in a rocking chair alone.
You don’t believe your dead will call you home.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: yammer.

6 thoughts on “Yammer

  1. lesleyscoble says:

    Beautiful poem. I enjoyed listening to your recitation. I loved the Waterbound song too ๐ŸŽถ

  2. lois says:

    This band was on your other post, too? I really like their sound. Another new one for me!

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