Friday, January 6, 2012

Metaphorical Family: Mother

(criteria of Metaphorical Family)


Dear Mother,

Wrapped around me, your arms
pruned, dried to dust, and fell
to the ground under the yawning Oklahoma sky

The wind turned the dust
into dirty shoes, and flung
them into the trees of Brooklyn

The prayers I kiss across
your forehead are sweating
and running your mascara



5 comments:

  1. Something about this made me smile so big, even though I think it's actually very sad.

    You are amazing.

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  2. I just read this again and I like it even more. I love the last two lines. Wow.

    ReplyDelete