Son Death Poem

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The Handing Over

© Lisa Willhite

Published on May 2010

I stand before a vision so dreadful
knees weakened and shoulders, oh so weighted
re-living life, becoming regretful
for I questioned what God had since fated

I fight the desire to "fall to knees"
a strong mother of sons never gives in
till his lips mouth, "I'm fine," again to me
letting him go will be my greatest sin

have you love that can test as strong as mine
I ask you Lord, for I am his mother
will you kiss his cheeks, and hug hugs like mine
and be sure he sleeps, beneath the covers?

Deaf ears I fear, that are not of my own
till I hear as I fall, momma I'm home


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