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I was a little girl     holding mothers hand-
unprepared for the      harsh and brutal     image
of my sister being run over      by a truck
the image raw   graphic  violent  and terrifying
I will always remember    the chilling scream
my mother screaming and screaming and screaming
it will haunt me forever-
the bleakness    the reality   powerful    fervent
perhaps that is why        we were so close
mother and me
until her death    we shared this raw emotion
just us-
the scene was garish
    a little girl lay dead
           in her sweet pink dress
I was naïve       unprepared for such an intense
violent death
     I was a just a flower growing
so I folded my petals up around me
   and there I dwelled    unspeaking      just staring
into nothingness
mother went to a raw place   painful and lost
only the love of a grandma
         could reach my shattered tender soul-
she was uneducated    and inexperienced
but with     untrained skill       she opened each
petal   one by one    and each raw emotion was revealed
    somehow mother and I recovered    in time  (or did we)
and life rumbled on
but still      when I go to the   wind blown  cemetery
     and I touch the name     suzanne
it all comes flooding back    the undiluted raw image
   and that penetrating scream to goes on for     infinity
                and this has made me the poet
                       I am
a poet born from raw   exposed pain


______________________________
July 29, 2015


Poetry/Free Verse/raw emotions
Copyright Protected, ID 15-695-291-0
All Rights Reserved.  Written under Pseudonym.

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