<i>To the memory of my mother</i>
And now she has over her head brown clouds of roots
a slim lily of salt on the temples beads of sand
while she sails on the bottom of a boat through foaming nebulas
a mile beyond us where the river turns
visible-invisible as the light on a wave
truly she isn't different-abandoned like all of us
Lament
Zbigniew Herbert
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Poem topics: light, memory, mother, river, head, brown, invisible, visible, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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