Motherhouse

not really finished, just an idea

All those years

Of sucking leaves in

A house of owls,

Perfect as a cube

of ice, hard as

frost`s tears, that

Will not break the mask

Stone-lipped you

Kiss the stairs

Wordless in the

Mill of dust, your throat

A tunnel of lost syllables ;

And all foured

Reach the landing;

So you have come home then ?

Reviews

[Valentine]

This is exactly what I did when I lost my husband. Sold all and moved back to my grand dads farm. Not many of the family left and I have thought your last line often and wonder if I made the correct move. Valentine

[Tina Kline]

An impressive poem on how time changes us all and everything. We learn and we are changed, expeirences change us for the better or not. A remarkable poem. It can only get better.

[Coyote Song]

The door might not always be open for you to come back. Things change. Excellent imagery in this poem. It does make the reader think just a little and a little more.

[外人 (Gaiji..]

That feeling ... I came to feel it towards a whole city, if you feel it just towards a house (I simply don't dare to call it "home"), you're lucky. Great job as always.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

something about rejection, and then getting experience and wisdom and coming back home with it...
the dictation of the stairs...

almost like in the Uninvited (film from 1944)...once everyone knew...the ghosts of the past were gone.

everyone, including, stella....could come home again....and stay.

at least those are feelings so far...look forward to seeing it complete...your writing is always compelling.

[John Alexander McFadyen]

This reminds me of the very strange and disturbing story of Helen Martins. It provokes much thought as usual Leslie, finished or not.

[MomzillaNC]

Intriguing imagery… :)