Turning Cheek

Don't think I
Still don't feel it
The slap
The thunder clap
You forced the turn
Body churn
Now I give you the other
As would any mother
And silently close the door
To the insanity

Weigthed Things

They cling
The weighted things
Lonely and desolate
With a full house of cards
The amber glow of the
Streetlights under the
Silvery moon
Morning will be coming
All too soon
Heavy
Silent goodbyes
To all the lies
Silent screams and
Heavy sighs hiding
The frustrated cries
These weighted things
Will make my
Heart sing
Lining out my blessings
On the bare
Wooden floor
There's more
Forevermore.

And Now I Write

And now I bid you
Good night
As I write
7,000 words and growing
I am healing and sewing
My story

It's Not About Me

I say it all the time
It's not about me
But he screams in a happy
Thrill tone
"Mommy!"
God
He makes me feel like
I can conquer anything
I can dance
I can sing
I make him laugh
All the better
Our second half
Skinny arms
Knobby knees
Little hands in my hair
Softly to tease
Kissing my elbow
I glow
Discussing dinosaurs
And how high the
Eagle soars
I say it's not about me
If you ask him
He'll surely say
"It's Mommy and me."

Silver Shovel

I feel lighter but
The silver shovel
Glistens as it
Pushes more dirt
Heavy the burden
Preparing to do
The job made for two
It's what I'm being asked
To do
And yes
I'll gladly do it
But
I'm praying I don't fail
Praying my emotions
Aren't tethered and frail
I'll never ask anyone
To grab their own shovel
And help me
God help me
I wouldn't want the burden
To weigh anyone else down
I know what it feels like
To drown
In dirt.

You May Go Now

I send you off with a farewell
Neither fond or foreboding
No more fear of anything
Imploding
Your part time status was
Just too much
But I won't regress on such
You may go now
My son & I have new
Fields to plow
Don't second guess your
Decision
I trust God's precision
There will be talk of hate
In relation to your name
I don't even think it's a shame
It's what you must do
My son & I deserve true
You'll always be his father
But my son needs a daddy
Where time and simple moments
Matter
Forget the made up chatter
You hear in your guilty head
You have a certain path you
Must tread
We go in love to our new life
In peace and love
What happens to you is
Held in God's graceful glove.

We'll Be Fine

He drew his proverbial line
in the quicksand he was standing in.
A long time coming - so I was not
surprised.  Life catching up to him,
I surmised.  He looked tired.  Eyes wired
to some distant destination.  We both knew
this time would come.  I simply said,
"We'll be fine."