Trudy Schrader Poet Rhyme

CONNECTION INFECTION

There he sits, in second grade
With his Mama not letting go
She hovers with intense intent
Trying to show, she knows how to grow

He finally gets out on his own
And makes choices she'd never make
Running rage like a chess game
In everything manipulation takes

She's old like worn wood
He's fragile, yet stands like a loyal son
She's sorry for not doing better
His movement makes her aware of everything she's done

No clear choice has ever been made
Agency has never been fully in tact
The infection claimed the connection
Dead skin keeps them attached to lack

For generations the cycle has run
Patterns etched on cave walls for proof
We lived, we died, nothing to tell
Just a record of connection gone aloof

Written by Trudy Schrader on 06-26-2026

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