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.
Tuesday, September 23, 2014
Relations
Labels:
Poetry
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