MM Panas and JoAnn Moore

Abstract painting

MM Panas

By JoAnn Moore
Inspiration piece

The day before my mother slipped
between worlds
she said—
quite lucidly—
Write me true.
Wouldn’t she rather I
write her well?
Her eyes caught me,
closed. Gone.

The clear line of truth
exists only in
shades of grey.
No black, white
or absolution.
What is the axiom of memory?

Maybe that paralysis
is a remarkable discovery
of what one can live without.
Or that death’s ellipses
sanction refocus.

In life we were separated
by truth.
And bound by blood.
Purgatory binds
the living to the dead,
the ink to the paper.
Now the best I can do is
coauthor the past.


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