Displaced
I remember
sitting in back
of the rocking chair
as you
soothed Nancy to sleep,
hard, black rockers
under my four-year-old
hands,
pushing to help you,
to be a part of your bonding
you humming a pretty
tune
not for me
anymore
your back
a corrugated
barrier
me drawing patterns
on the dusty rockers,
tempted to let a finger
slip underneath,
to feel tangible pain,
to have a real reason
to cry
and to have you
gather
me in your arms
once more
and rock me
on the other side
of your back.
10 comments:
'tempted to let a finger
slip underneath,
to feel tangible pain,
to have a real reason
to cry'
Amazing and real pain for the displaced four-year-old.
great dynamics and rhythm. you should post a recording of yourself reading it. :-)
Phew, the power of thought, imagination and memory - all at work here.
Very powerfully written!
Yes, so much power in this. Beautiful.
sounds like back was not the only barrier here! you capture the power dynamics well..
Pain depicted so well. The hurt shows through it...
Oh wow, this was powerful in its emotions...I could feel it all. This especially struck me:
under my four-year-old
hands,
pushing to help you,
to be a part of your bonding
The symbolism in this is wonderful...that little child, behind the chair, wanting to reach through the chair and touch the mother to feel part of it somehow. Thanks for a wonderful read!
Poignant. Painful. So well-done, it draws throat lumps.
I am not a poet, and I don't have my own words to describe the acute feelings this conjured, but everyone else's comments cover it very well! This is superb, and intensely felt!
mmm- love how your recall your mom still showing you she loved you, still rocking you. It's hard to be an older sibling. The strongest image here is a powerful metaphor:"your back/a corrugated/barrier.
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