Thursday, October 13, 2016

Sometimes

Where have you gone to?
I wonder this, sometimes.
When the girls are off at school.
While scrubbing a stubborn pan that won’t
wipe clean.
When my mind is untethered,
idle.
I return to you in memory.
Back when you were rooted in me.
I want to pin you down there,
make you stay.
I return to you in a world imagined.
Warm and safe and content at my breast.
A place where you choose me.
I ache for that, sometimes.
Instead, you are elsewhere.
Instead, there's negative space in the composition.
But you float there
in the periphery.
Just at the edge of my awareness,
hanging there like a question.

No comments:

Post a Comment