when i was eight years old,
she left the door open
so i could watch her
flee down the stairs
and leave me.
years later, she reads jokes
with her head
bowed over the newspaper
like a coconut
cracking at the eyebrows:
she pauses between words
and tries to mask
the twelve years of mockery
that weren’t enough to turn her
into an elegant woman.
behind these hides my freshman year
when she left the tail between her legs
to put me in a place that could grant
a future more like the rainbow.
Author notes
Nov. 29, 2008
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-very simplistic but strong beginning. [good thing]
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thank you!
happy holidays
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I believe that our parents influence us first and foremost and our experiences make us who we are. I think the second last stanza is very well done. It calls forth strong images of my own childhood and of course my mother.
I am always amazed how beautiful and touching your words are to read. I again enjoyed the last lines of this piece. It offers a feeling of hope and forgiveness to me, at least, causing my thoughts to assume that one took this experience and made it theirs. I suppose the future really is what we make of it. -
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thanks.
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The imagery is flawless and the emotional state you create with this one lingers with the reader long after it is read.
The abandonment and loss are so clearly painted that the reader is taken into this world -- so very well done.
Excellent. As always!
Garrison
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