The Storm
The Storm
There is just enough love
to know what I should do
I did not know the spirals
the zig zag, the sharpness
of the cuts
of being your mother
Thirty five years now of no-sleep nights
the knocks on the door at midnight
the 911's of motherhood
I still hear the echoes of your cries
burning my ears
as I stand in the summer rain
the amber red lights of porchlights
flash like the police cars you encounter
what good will my tears do now?
shackles that click
encircling your strong wrists
a sound I thought I'd never have to save you from
You came into this world innocent and hungry
and when I gazed upon your face
I named you for the archangel
the votives still lit with hopeful prayer,
You are walking in silence
over a path of stones,
in tragic orange,
a butterfly so beautiful
with clipped wings.
Elizabeth Dispenza. all rights reserved 2021
Copyright © Elizabeth Dispenza | Year Posted 2021
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment