Tag Archives: family

04/2/13

Forgiveness by Falling Through Floorboards

Forgiveness

Falling through the floorboards
Of  the house on Cedar Lane
The one where no one loved you
Where abuse and violence reigned

Falling through the floorboards
I arrived in days gone by
And watched as no one loved you
Where you smothered silent cry

Falling through the floorboards
My own history I changed
As I showed them how to love you
True connections were arranged

Falling through the floorboards
To that place where you were young
I learned to fully love you
True forgiveness has begun

02/17/13

As They Fall: Leaves

Fall Leaves

some folks say
a tree won’t miss
fall leaves
what
I ask
do they know?
did they pull energy to trunk and soul
from soil
feeding that which bursts forth
greens
then grows?
do they hold tight
to foliage bright
through frolicking spring
and summer sun’s sting?
uphold
when nights turn cold?
Doubt it.
If so,
folks would know
those trees
miss those leaves.

01/17/13

Patent Leather Shoes

This is the second in a series of posts responding to Eric W. Storch’s Master Class.

Marian, over at runaway sentence, chose Emma Donoghue’s “Room“ for this week’s class. The first sentence is: Today I’m five.

Here is my contribution:

Patent Leather Shoes

Today I’m five.
I enter this plea:
Listen!
Listen to me!

patent leather shoes
found in his trunk
belong not
to my sister or me

however, their finding’s
a godsend, no doubt
perhaps now you’ll
finally hear, see

when I tell you
he uses his tongue
when we kiss
and puts cold hands
where they ought not be

when I say
I feel creepy
when he comes around
and I won’t show
what he wants to see

when I wonder aloud
“Why did he
have to be
related-
my dad’s daddy?”

Today I’m five.
Listen.
To me.

12/28/12

Akin To

A burlap bag
Worn to softness over time
Caresses precious cargo

Grandma’s lap

Common, everyday
Wrinkled, slightly frayed
Protects from threat and foe

Grandma’s lap

Who’d have thought
Such comparison
Would provide
Such joy?

Sleeping Grandson

12/16/12

An Altered Peace

The brief, chaotic din did cease
There was no peace
Not in that final place
Nor in their homes

Father’s hands and mother’s laps
Left cold by morning’s haps
Intensely ache, hearts break
Trapped in the gloam

Our response
Though simple
Is necessary, true
We must love
Shine our light
Respect, support, imbue
Our people
With care, concern, clear view

And know
Peace
Though altered,
Will return