early morning
I got up.
See the vicissitudes of the back
Look at in dismay
The body in the kitchen
That face
A voice in my mind reminded me, saying;
Walk over. . . . revise
I gently walked over and said;
Hello, mom.
That figure is at a loss.
Turn around slowly
I haven't woken up with dark circles around my eyes.
and
Wrinkles that prove aging
Mom. . . . Laugh. . . Not language.
Turn around. . . Go ahead. . .
I can't help crying.
That kind face
Take me back to bits and pieces
Mom's short figure.
Filled my whole heart.
The whole atrium . . . . .