Domestics
Every time I heard her cry
I would come barreling down the stairs
ready to square up to him,
both of us fuming on the edge of a fight.
As a child when you have yet to experience
the infinite pettiness of relationships,
right and wrong both have their pitfalls.
Parents had their cat and mouse games.
Father was a good man made weak,
worn out by doing the best he could.
Their battles were a joust,
their fighting had rules of engagement,
indistinct battle lines,
hard for a boy to figure out.
Boys and their mothers also have rules,
they agree to die for each other,
but how and when are never discussed.
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