Last Look Back
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pain ...
the blood of her pen
a harlequin's hope ...
the thrum in her breast and being
no quarter given the issue of her barren womb
she looked back one last time
on the darkened house ...
things and thoughts and threadbare attentions
the labor of her love ... the love of her labor
that structure that had meant everything ...
now, but a cold castle ...
a lifetime of sacrifice and dedication ... and fear
perspectives meant for panic
placed pointedly at her fair feet
with threats and a well-timed backhand
(she gently poked the bruise on her cheek ... her reality)
children were the bond, the cement, the guarantee
but it had been a feigned promise only
his intent was ever the opposite
she saw that now ... clearly
the ruin no longer mattered
the lies, the humiliation, the endless attempts
to be the 'good wife' at all costs
mattered not ... not anymore ...
her eyes left the rear-view mirror in a silent pledge
never again ...
NOW was all she cared about
now, and the dream ...
of tomorrow.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Strand Completely New 13, Any Form, Any Theme" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.
Copyright © Gregory Richard Barden | Year Posted 2020
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