Relations

Relations

Old enough now to have
experienced the indelibility
of words which
once spoken
hang on thunderclapped air
and inscribe themselves
forever on the reeling mind

she takes deep breath
and instead 
pierces me with the
anger of her eyes,
their deadly shafts
speaking more clearly

than past emotional
incoherences.
and I wonder,
did I ever
hate my mother to that
same transitional degree?

Could my mother
have been the devious
roadblock to happiness
I am presumed to be
or was she always

how I perceive her now
a simple-minded
and trusting survivor.