Saturday, September 23, 2006

a conversation after 14 years

i wanted this to be a poem. but it isn't
whatever...


my mother's voice cracked between phone lines
i am crying inside
baby girl missing maternal hands
but she will not know this so soon

we make pleasantries
converse on weather
grandchildren
mistakes
the levees break
and new orleans is my home today

she is clean
sobered by history and finally
i cry
say i am sorry for never opening back up

i'm sorry
for turning away

i'm sorry for blocking you out
she stops me

understands the reason behind my shell
hard after years of second-hand addiction
breath still black from smoke
or death
or both

she knows
has found god
and he has
has found us again
she smiles
joyous

as her voice crackles
phone line static connection
lending california and new york residents
one last try
for redemption

5 comments:

Shelle said...

this brought tears to my eyes, thinking of the strain between me and my own mother. pain brushed under the rug.
its a start again, and that is wonderful mo.

Crystal said...

Girl I just wrote a poem last month for my cousin who met her dad for the FIRST TIME since birth (she is 35 now)

this is her story...


drinks with daddy

child support checks
training wheels
homemade birthday cakes, frosting
first dates, proms
never made its way into their lives

they are mirror images
red tops, freckled faces
he sits in a lazy boy
she nervously pats the bare sofa next to her

he is sorry
for not being there when she fell
for not being that father figure, important person
she needed to see
that real men don’t leave

3 kids/ 33 years later she is bright and beautiful
sunny, full of life
open, curious
forgiving

they reconnect
and erase 35 years of separation
with old school r and b
and mixed drinks


© 2006 Crystal Senter Brown
August 16

thir13teenandtheysayitain'tlucky said...

courageous. And it's still a poem.
love ya like ac in the texas heat...

taylor said...

Mo your life is one long poem that you segment to share with us. Thanks for that. There's a book called, Don't Sweat the Small Stuff... And it's All Small Stuff. I think you're at that chapter. Not a bad place to be at. You'll figure something out before your surgery. Just get a toothpick, some chewing gum, a broom, an empty lipstick container and a rubber band... then McGuyver your way through.

poeticjourney said...

i'm crying too....this is beautiful.....