Grandma-child
Frightened, lonely, confused
turns on the TV.
Nothing happens.
Forgetting the path to her room
where five bananas, daily reward, pool
rotting on the counter with medication.
She asks yet again, "what time is is?"
Television blaring now!
Invisible hand in control.
Mocking straight lines,
mischievious lurker.
She weeps at dusk
for another, long gone.
"I can take care of myself",
She lies.
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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My mom can write poetry! :-) very nice surprise.
I really enjoyed this -- the concrete images of the second stanza buffered by the television clicking slowly on. The rotting bananas is an especially strong image because they were her "daily reward" (it shows the hopelessness of the action-- how she misses out on the reward on a daily basis)
I love the intense emotion of this poem too, from the first emotion-evoking endearment to the final naked confession.
I look forward to reading future posts of yours! (you should also start entering contests with poems like this. great job )
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