Staring at the son

staring at the son

can’t touch it 
can’t look at it sometimes

thinking about it

brings tears to the eyes

can only look at her 
through reflections in time

think about it too much 
go mad, dumb, and blind

done through mirrors
slivers sliced thinner

than blue
paper onions

still see her
staring at the son in the mirror

 

#mothersday

◄ Hyenas

Charades ►

Comments

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Robert C Gaulke

Sat 18th May 2019 01:06

Thanks, Martin.

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Martin Elder

Sun 12th May 2019 23:07

Your poetry never disappoints and this is no exception Robert.
Love it

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Robert C Gaulke

Sun 12th May 2019 13:52

Touché!

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Brian Maryon

Sun 12th May 2019 10:47

Of course, the son is just one out of billions of stares.

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