Near death experience

I saw my mother the other day
Just her portrait
She didn’t say
Anything
Just a smile
A sort of connection
For a while
An affiliation
A far off thread
Worth mentioning
For she had been dead
Many decades
But there she was
And perhaps I saw her
Now because
It was episodic
Or absolute
Brought by Sepsis
At its root
An antidote yes possibly
The streets where i was born
To see
Vivid pictures of a time
Places where i liked to climb
The Anderson shelter
The chicken shed
No truer likeness
I was led
Down the back stairs
To the greenhouse
Where dad’s Dahlia’s
Replete
Were utterly beautiful and complete

Order,
tidy harmony
Regulated accordingly
Arraying and placed in fancy rows
It was sort of where he chose
An assemblage of petals red
Creating a great and flowery bed
Infection took the sense away
Drugged to the eyeballs
Much to say
Iteration tautology
Revenge and playback
Extraordinary
Repetitional
Same old round
Hammering an incessant sound
Was i going to die
Was this the day
A fleeting passage
Would i pay
The henchman really
Who could say
As sepsis
Took me clean away