To Win a Lost Battle
I'm only seven,
Mother calls me in.
Her expression is grave.
She gives me the bad news
And I wonder if God is really in heaven.
She begins her battle of hope and whit,
Fighting the evils of sickness within.
She was and still is my one hero.
She never threw a fit.
Her memory lives on,
Even though the battle was lost.
I love my mother,
And in my mind, she still won.
-Danielle A. Zandecki