Little ManA Poem by dovetailerSome people we never forget...nor should we...
Little Man
My mother was a nurse She worked nights always made me breakfast wearing her "whites" I loved her smell... a blend of surgical tape antiseptic and chocolate chip cookies I loved her hands strong, wide, working hands not baby soft...but smooth never painted self-manicured No delicate showpiece...she I'm built like her... strong...solis as a brick shithouse I smile like her unrestrained from ear to ear I weep like her restrained as if one tear will show all my weakness I'm crying now despite all my efforts not to Tears run down my face make saline polke dots on her hospital gown I hold her hand it's like holding my own only smaller they've never seemed this frail... never motionless in my hand She's leaving me her hand is on the door Why does everyone leave? My father left He broke her heart broke her...period It's not easy to stand tall when you've been thrown away like refuse... replaced by a newer model... one without six children's worth of stretch marks I was 13 when he left us Mom, me, and siblings 7, 4, and 2 I overheard him say "Claire..." (Oh, how I love her name) "I don't love you any more!" I opened and read the letter she couldn't open and read... a lawyer letter from Dewey Screwum and Howe it read... "Dear Mrs. B: This letter is to inform you That you have just been f**ked! ( I paraphrase) Her lip trembled trying her best to be strong I held her...her tears flowed the first of my many shirts getting a salt water washing The first time to console her Not sure how hard to hold Not sure what to do...really pat her?...pet her? Not sure what to say so I said nothing and soaked up her tears Her life changed that day So did mine I took the first steps toward being a man... her little man That journey done... the years have passed I have a family of my own I wait and weep in hospice here Sit vigil in her final hour With all my siblings...save one And he who walked away (their armistice was bittersweet... more bitter than sweet) I hold her hand as she opens the door to go... take the first steps on her journey to what comes next I'm conficted... feel remorse...resigned...relieved I know she'll be happy Where she goes I feel her squeeze my hand I tell her... "Mom...it's OK it's OK to leave..." and...without a blink of her eyes... she does... I hear her last breath... I really hear the absence of her next I swear I feel her slip away I hug her kiss her "Goodbye" She smells of surgical tape, antiseptic and chocolate chip cookies... © 2010 dovetailerReviews
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4 Reviews Added on November 8, 2010 Last Updated on November 8, 2010 Author
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