Still Digging

Father, as immoveable
as a mountain
taught us to orchestrate
submontane routes

his rocky moods
bestowed upon us
a fear of masculinity

Resilience instilled
the necessity of mining
gold from darkness:
still digging.

(Sketch mine)

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Permission to write, paint, and imagine are the gifts I gave myself when chronic illness hit - a fair exchange: being for doing. Relevance is an attitude. Humour essential.

20 thoughts on “Still Digging”

  1. I don’t know if it was intentional but the left side of the drawing looks like mangled bodies and the right I can see a cruel face and raised hand. Your words match what I’m seeing.

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