The Meeting

Spring meeting today at the flower shop;
a mother sees daughter through stained glass hanging -
- a gilded butterfly, youth and love on glass.

The daughter squeezes her clutch shut;
mother rubs on ancient pearls around neck.

They look to see gilded mirror, reflections aged
since last time they two met.

Awkward silence
heard in room by both, sniffing flowers quietly.

The glass hanging sways sadly in silence, holding joy inside
for a better, easy time of love.

The daughter bites her lip,
getting lipstick on her stainless, white-perfect teeth and
holding purse, quakes in silent agony, sweat dripping
down her face slowly.

The silence changes, intensifies
in height and pitch; the tension gathers strength bewtween the two.

The mother pulls on her pearls, looking distressed as silence grows in tension
to its crescendo.

The daughter looks at mother, whispers in a voice unheard:
"I'm pregnant."