The author's own prelude to the poem:
This poem 'Sudden' is a reflection of my life in its current state. My beloved mother is dying slowly. It's pain on every level for me. I dream of pain in various incarnations. I found out that I'm not indefatigable -- as I previously believed. I also now understand the process of aging and the dying body and mind. It's a sobering journey that we all have to take because we only get to rent space here.
Sudden
No
flowers in hanging pots
to
bank the door—
we’ve
come to the season of darkness/
July/
a summer moon
&
sorrow busts the seams
of
every garment you try on.
This
death-watch is numbing.
Making
holes in shoes that
used
to feel sturdy
the
part down your hair
raked
sideways,
and
I’m afraid to touch your arm:
No
sudden movements.
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