Tag: family

Spotlights Burn

She amassed children while
he pursued accolades

Family photos display
northern shorelines
tanned faces, white-toothed grins
parents not represented

Lost her childhood
at the bottom of a ravine
laid beaten and shattered
no one came to rescue her.

Guess that’s what drew her
the his light; money, she hoped
would not abandon her.

But muck tracks the same
and children need feeding
and absent a co-parent
she sleeps most days.

Offspring learn independence
a product of adults’ disarray
outlasting the fickleness of fame.

(For Reena’s Exploration Challenge:  prompt is the last line of the poem.  Image my own.)

Birch Trees (with recording)

Strains of Tijuana Brass flood the yard
while father on bended knee tends
his garden, tiers of stone edged rows
encircling a trio of birch trees.

Father points out birches on Sunday
drives, as if the bark is sacred, leaves
whispering a secret I cannot hear –
stirs in me an indefinable longing.

My husband planted birch trees
there amongst the flower beds –
how the leaves shimmer in sunlight,
how my heart quickens, bittersweet.

Imagine Father seated there, mellow
as he was in old age, angst expended,
tyranny of parenting set aside – understand
love unexpressed dwells in birch trees.

(Watercolour image by yours truly)

Distorted Lenses

My memory of you –
distorted by childish exuberance –
distant and disinterested

Translated vacant eyes
through the lens of my needs
child that I was.

Failed to notice
the aura of defeat,
the battered heart

the robotic responses
masking unbelievable sorrow
missed it all

till death knocked
and I saw you anew –
adult lenses now fully secured.

wonder at the fortitude
that kept you upright,
the love that served us both.

No fault here –
on either side –
just a bittersweet understanding.

(Life, in retrospect, offers new revelations.  Poem inspired by Reena’s Exploration challenge – image as prompt.)

Soul Confusion

I was your pink girl universe,
but you, Two Spirit,
asked me to look up,
full faith, feel sky lift
your language world big,
I, little and like morning, gentle,
always open –
one sister soul
making life a play.

(Friday is magnetic poetry.  Play online.  Image from personal collection – available on Society6 – KnutsonKreations.)