Poetry- Death Like A Poetry.

Roses are red
Violets are blue
This is a letter
To you, mum

Dear Mother,

March 21st,
Took the shape of a raven
Cold and concrete
The mood, a dirge
As you lamented
The death of Adanne
Your life’s support,
My twin sister.

For me,
It was a ballad
With chants and refrains of
‘ She’s gone. Finally ‘

Adanne lived life
Like a limerick, silly
Your love for her, a sonnet
One line for everything Adanne

Adanne, the complete creation
Adanne, the smart ass
Adanne, the voice with sweet assonance
Adanne, with the charming simile
Adanne this, Adanne that
Adanne nyen nyen nyen
Every foot sang of Adanne

Then, there’s me
Irregular and incomplete
Crippled and dumb
My life, an elegy to be read

So, stanza by stanza
I watched as her life gained rhythm
I watched until it became
My life’s theme to
Write an end to her poem

My plan
575, a haiku

Five- for the drops
Of poison in her tea

Seven- for the hours
It would take to effect
Before she died

Five- for the days after
But I’d be found dead too
Alongside this letter.

Your other daughter,
Adana.