Momma

Her fear of death to me is known
as daily I see it rise,
shining so brightly, climaxing nightly
in Momma's painful eyes.

Her fear of death is stronger than me
as comforting words I give.
It burns through muscle and skin and bone
as Momma strains to live.

The fear of death that controlled her mind
has eased a little day by day.
In death she has a victorious beam
of bright triumphant rays.