Alabastrine
Soft cotton balls
Await, in the
Medicine cabinet
To rinse, to dab
To cleanse
The porcelain tiles
In the bathroom;
Strange
Confidants when
You’re not making
Sense,
The smell of
Hospitals,
Sterilized
And pools with
Ramified chlorine
Her lovely dress
Of spider threads,
Simplistic
Yet pristine,
Silver chains and
Talismans, crowns
Of asphodel
A glass of warm,
Happy milk
To sleep it will
Inveigle,
And the silent hum,
Of a life
Humdrum
Until it went
Askew,
The little winged figurine
On a child’s nightstand,
And her voice
Saying
Angels are watching over you…
© 2020 Veronica Lejano
Comments
Veronica Lejano (author) on September 11, 2020:
Hi Lorna, thanks for your observation and appreciation :)
Lorna Lamon on September 11, 2020:
There are deep messages within the lines of this poignant poem.