Making Sense

An elegy about my mother.

Five times I have imagined you in words
In hopes that I could glue the pieces together again
Reattach my head and start over new
But every second is another black eye for the colonel
And through the haze, I cannot see your eyes
Nor that sparkle you left for me
I fused all of my words and lamented again
How could you? Why would you?
All of them, left to sound your name in tears
While you look down from your cloud in the sky
And I keep screaming, "It is not the same!"
As I drown in my river of black and white
And though I hate to say it, I blamed them
We trail one year and I shape you again
For these pictures have much more to say
They do not bear the emotions or feel the pain
They are burden free,
Completely content with aging in their frames
But this is where I find serenity
Only in words can this make perfect sense