While my mother
gathers onion skins
then boils them
I rub lemons over myself
to survive this
then imagine
the banks of snow
where she had lived
and all the trenches widening
trying to understand
why she cannot leave the house
Thanks Beatrice. I have been enjoying reading your poems and have posted comments. I am glad you comment on the impact of my poems on you, and gratified that they create such strong responses.thanks so much for this valuable feedback.
Quite beautiful. Sad of course, but beautiful.
ReplyDeleteThanks Rob, one of the ways I survive the sadness around me is to turn it into a piece of writing that I love.
Deletewow! it's like a stab in the stomach!
ReplyDeleteThanks Beatrice. I have been enjoying reading your poems and have posted comments. I am glad you comment on the impact of my poems on you, and gratified that they create such strong responses.thanks so much for this valuable feedback.
Deleteyou're very welcome Claine!
ReplyDelete