Still, a poem by Carmen Frech Oliveri at
Mario Wallner



written by: Carmen Frech Oliveri


Still was the breath upon his little chin.
Bursting gently, was the mother’s cry,
within the pain, the sorrow wins,
and yet she said goodbye.

In the walls, there is a loud, gusting wind
crushing souls in its wake…
The room, with sadness rimmed
Yet she gently smiled, crooked and fake.

Sparkled, the cherub sits on golden sheets.
Embraced and loved, endlessly.
She kissed his feet,
humming lullabies, fervently.

“And I loved you so, in the way the clouds love sunrise.
The tender dove, always, in my eyes.”

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