Trickle Down Affect
Mother
You have hovered way to long
soured breath down my back
I forgave but
never was forgiven
for the late nights with Dad
sitting by his chair in the parlor,
you in your bedroom
eyes wide shut
Counting the seconds, the minutes
your iron fist at hand
a child's lesson
the sting, the bruise
left to heal alone in my room
crying.
Copyright © Beverly Briatico | Year Posted 2006
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