*Based on the "Portrait of the Artist's Mother at Age 63" by Albrecht Durer*

Mother, you look at me with stern eyes.

Your flesh lags over your bones.

Your clothes hang about you

As if under sticks.

Your hair is faint and falling from your head.

The dying days are nigh and illness

Clings to your every breath.

And still, Mother, you look at me with stern eyes.