Like a fairy she stands, flowers in her hair, mud on her face, tangled hair and dirty hands. A flower torn from earth, roots shake and dirt covers my floor. All for the bloom that barely had time to form.
Cherub face stares. Eyes wide. "Please stop a moment, and be with me." Whispers in the silence of a rage I cannot hide.
Things must be neat, houses must be kept, dresses pressed and dainty, floors that must be swept.
She comes to me and haunts me in my day. Little fairy wonder, longing for me to stay. To be with her, in moments, when a list demands, I push from these still longings, to fight the demons that reside.
Kneeling to the girl child, that holds a flower in her hand. I still for a moment. Let lists fling from my hands.
I cup her muddy face, stare deep into her eyes. Then I hug her and her dirt, let roots leave their trace upon my shirt. Flower in it's water, kept inside it's crystal vase.
We laugh in child wonder and I find my perfect place.
Not in lists and laundry, with fat rolls, and with face, I'll be the mother in her memory who loves with desperate grace.
1 comment:
gut wrenching and every word it true. <3
Post a Comment