MJ blathers

dark poet who loves to laugh

starved for love

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for six months

she crouches in the cave

conforming her lithe body

to its nooks and angles

crowded closer and closer

by one hundred thousand eggs

pale, dangling, elongated

draped, and growing

 

she does not eat

but merely tends

flicking away destructive algae

sweeping moving water with her arms

to give fresh oxygen

and–as they hatch–buffeting

to help her tiny octopi offspring

break free and swim away

not looking back

at their dying mother

 

 

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Author: mjnordgren

as a retired physician, i have needed to talk with many persons about end of life. And then I cared for my husband for more than five years.

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