Tuesday, June 12, 2012

Portrait of a Woman in Soft Brown Pastels

She hung on the wall opposite the stairs –
hair as full and bulbous as the times.

Her chestnut eyes fixed upon the black leather
recliner, indented and empty. I was five

and she was beautiful. I would descend
the stairs in uneasy dreams as she turned

her gaze toward me and my worries –
will Dad come home, is Mom crying

herself to sleep again, am I going to awaken
wet and ashamed.



Punchnel's - June 12, 2012

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