I watched you age a hundred

years over the space of a decade.

Your soul worn beyond description;

sorrow caught in your throat like a bullfrog.


I watched you lose the will to

do any of the things that

previously made you happy.


Watched your steps get heavier.

The lines sink deeper in your face.

The laugh disappear from your vocabulary.


Darkness shrouded you having placed itself like a comfort

on your heavy shoulders.


I watched you age a million

years mother, and my soul aged

with you-

the tadpoles swimming through

your soul and filling every

part of you as they too grew

into bullfrogs.


I watched you attempt to be part

of this life again;

a prisoner at the brink of a life,

a death sentence reversed.


I truly understood then, why parents

shouldn’t bury their children.





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