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At The Tomb Of A Poet
A poet loved my mother as much as I did;
and as much as her parents hated her
(their parents, too: her kinfolk wanted to be rid
of all the problems they had to endure.)
But all of that came from her heroin addiction
that started, probably, as an escape
from her remembrance of an adolescent rape
(the perpetrator walked without conviction).
This poet loved my mother as much as I did.
Their romance did not have much time amid
their circumstances, but I am quite certain of
this: those few days brought her poetic love.
The proof is in the words, upon his lines' conveyance---
their measure is beyond a hunter's cadence.
Starward
[jlc]
good but sad write at the
good but sad write at the same time a tale of hurt and rejection and of hope and happiness in the form of the love for the mother from the son and the poet. thankyou for sharing your work
Thanks muchly.
Thanks for the kind comment. Unfortunately, although fictive, the poem rises from some sad events in my recent past. Thanks again for the kind words.
Starward