She dreams
he scurries across the floor,
and through any nook or cranny,
disappears into the walls,
then she awakens to an empty crib -- the house settles -- the windows rattle.
All night
she hears him crying
behind the woodwork.
Just spent a few minutes browsing your site. Your work resonates with honesty and emotion. Sometimes quite direct, sometimes allusion-filled, each poem has a cadence and construct that seem just right. I will return!
This made me hurt. It felt like someone had put a vice around my heart and was squeezing it really tight and the lump in my throat won't go away. I dream like that sometimes you know and I wake up crying. The crib that should have been filled with my babies, is always going to be empty. I'm done screaming at God, but I'm not done crying. I'll never hold my own little, warm person in my arms, but I can hold everyone else's. Now every time I see a pregnant woman, see a crib or hear a baby cry I smile, then I wait to come home and cry.
The second poem I read apart from your rally one. Its really nice, gives a fierce blow on your face and then you realize the importance of 'house settling an windows rattling'.
Haunting and lonely. Beautiful.
ReplyDeleteJust spent a few minutes browsing your site. Your work resonates with honesty and emotion. Sometimes quite direct, sometimes allusion-filled, each poem has a cadence and construct that seem just right. I will return!
ReplyDeletelinda
ReplyDeletethank u very much
for the read
loved
the discussion
ur poem
generated
very interesting
later
my sister
este
gracias kim
ReplyDeletei really enjoyed
ur poem
just read
the world goes round & round
& it does
dosen't it
much love
in your life
my sister
este
This made me hurt. It felt like someone had put a vice around my heart and was squeezing it really tight and the lump in my throat won't go away.
ReplyDeleteI dream like that sometimes you know and I wake up crying. The crib that should have been filled with my babies, is always going to be empty.
I'm done screaming at God, but I'm not done crying. I'll never hold my own little, warm person in my arms, but I can hold everyone else's.
Now every time I see a pregnant woman, see a crib or hear a baby cry I smile, then I wait to come home and cry.
"... but I can hold everyone else's ..."
ReplyDeleteincluding
gabriel uriah
my muse
much love & peace
in ur life
my sister
este
Love this poem and your blog - I shall return :)
ReplyDeleteThank you for your kind words in your visit.
ReplyDeleteYou are pretty good yourself!
Luego.
:)
marousia
ReplyDeletethank u for visiting
come play
anytime
peace & love
my sister
este
thank u mia
ReplyDeletehope only the best
for ur mother
much love
esteban
The second poem I read apart from your rally one. Its really nice, gives a fierce blow on your face and then you realize the importance of 'house settling an windows rattling'.
ReplyDeleteGood work indeed.
:)
thank u brother
ReplyDeletepeace
este
Very powerful and true to heart. Well penned.
ReplyDeletethank u m
ReplyDeleteappreciate the comment
peace & love
este