HER OTHER CHILDREN
After working her shift, she barely
had enough energy to disrobe,
much less play with a toddler.
But it had to be done.
Once the boy was asleep, she'd
sneak downstairs to be with her
other children who waited
patiently for her each evening.
There wasn't a night that went
by that she didn't long for them
and there they were. Loyal.
Her three boys, in waiting.
Proudly.
Standing tall.
Handsome.
Some days Johnnie,
so spiffy in black,
would be the one to help
her through the rough patches
with that ever so cozy essence.
Jim, stoic and strong, said
little but packed a punch.
He usually came through
when she needed to see things
clearer than they appeared.
Ah, but Jack was her old standby,
her first born of sorts and
the one she ran to with the
most comfort and ease.
But by the end of the night,
she'd be drained by them.
They were sometimes too
much all at once, so after
a few hours, she'd wave
them off, until tomorrow.
Walking upstairs, she'd catch
a glimpse of herself in a cracked
hallway mirror and would
turn away before her reflection
angered her.
Little did she know her three
wise men took more of a toll
on her than that little guy
upstairs any day of the week.
Thursday, October 22, 2009
HER OTHER CHILDREN (poem)
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Cleverly written, but sad. The cracked mirror was a very nice touch.
ReplyDeleteYou had me craving for a wee dram until the warning at the end. I guess I'll save my Glenmorangie for another day.
ReplyDeleteA fine piece and, like Laurita, a sad tale as well.
ReplyDelete"But by the end of the night,
she'd be drained by them."...and them by her some nights too, I would imagine!
Wonderful piece.
ReplyDeleteThose three are demanding after all is said and drunk. No quality time left for the little guy upstairs, after a while. Nice work in the telling.
ReplyDelete