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Mother's Tears
By Bob Childs
21st CenturyShe hollers and spits and becomes unwoven
Pleading and hovering above the young man
On her face are the smudges of an afternoon's
Drunk on the hot streets of Rome
She pounds his back but
He will not yield
She presses her face into his almost
Burning him with her cigarette
He doesn't notice
I know she is frustrated that
He can't feel her pain as she orbits about him
Deep space seems to isolate her
Tears lost amongst the stars
I think perhaps she is like the moon
And that he must be her son.
DayPoems Poem No. 2354
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The DayPoems web site, www.daypoems.net, is copyright 2001-2005 by Timothy K. Bovee. All rights reserved.
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