When I was young
You’d spin me round,
Making airplane sounds.
High and untouched,
I was.
And on days my mother’s
Dryness escaped me
You explained her
With direct kindness.
In the garden we shared
your lessons.
The joy of creation and cause,
Rusty iron posts
and the smell
Of honey suckle.
Even on nights
As I helped you with your socks,
Sirens blaring,
My mother’s blood still thick
On your knuckle bone,
You managed to make me feel
Like mother Teresa
I wiped your tears,
Stilling quivering lips
With my own.
Father I was wrong
And you are crazy.

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gia frisco
almost 7 years

thank you so much that means alot to me

J.A. Lütz
almost 7 years

WOW! This is the first on this site to make me cry.

gia frisco
almost 7 years

are you sure the ending is enough?

Cory Garcia
almost 7 years

Excellent story telling and the biting ending was perfect!

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