Am not the woman my children once called Mother – can see the disappointment in their anger-blotched expressions, feel the constraint in their voices –
Category: disability
Levitating
Suits meet, banter about deals, conspiratorial heads bent, deep throaty laughs, confidence reeking. I glide by, imperceptibly, am a whisper on the window of their
What Scars Remain?
Should I escape these shackles, manage to re-surface, swim despite this weakened condition against the currents of disability, find myself once again on the solid
Unwanted
Like a wanted woman, I hide in public places One step ahead of recognition, ignoring friendly gestures, leaving confusion in my wake I’m tired of
Sleeping Alone
Sleeping alone with so much intrusion – child born of good intentions awash in a trail of barricades I cope, cook up breezes, strike wet
Soul Stalker
Downy blankets of white softly settle, Nature gratefully submitting to slumber as the Earth bids a seasonal adieu. Inside, my body craving hibernation, curls into
