Finalities
They clipped
her long black hair
laid calm on her face
made her more Elsi
and less my mother—
gave her the oldest dress
they could find that she wore
when she was young—
gave her back
the peace and beauty
they thought she had—
before her
first love
came—
and
left
her.
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Beautiful photos and amazing poetry my friend. I did enjoy.
I’m glad you read and like. Always appreciate the effort and time.
Very nice poem!
How strange that others get to decide our final appearance!
You have quite a way with word and the imagery they bring to life. This piece feels so tender and quietly devastating. The way “they” try to restore her to a younger version of herself—more “Elsi” and less “my mother”—captures how death can tempt us to edit a life back to some imagined innocence. Dressing her in that old dress, giving her “back / the peace and beauty / they thought she had” before love came and left, says so much about how wounds shape a person. It’s a beautiful, aching reminder that the people we love are more than the story others try to put back on them at the end.
Wonderful comment.
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