Devoted to his sick mother,
He was more than happy to stay
With her during the last weeks
Of her slow, steady decline.
Through it all, he sought
To assure her that he’d found
A new direction to his life,
Though he doubted it himself.
In fact, he clung more tightly
To his obsession even as he tried
To fight it. He knew, rightly
Or wrongly, the moment she died,
He would put on the white dress
And the red shoes, and the jars
Of make-up he kept in the drawer.