I ... entered the poem of life, whose purpose is ... simply to witness the beauties of the world, to discover the many forms that love can take. (Barabara Blackman in 'Glass After Glass')

These poems are works in progress and may be updated without notice. Nevertheless copyright applies to all writings here and all photos (which are either my own or used with permission). Thank you for your comments. I read and appreciate them all, and reply here to specific points that seem to need it — or as I have the leisure. Otherwise I reciprocate by reading and commenting on your blog posts as much as possible.

5 August 2008

Younger Stepson

We met at Christmas.
I guess you’d heard
there was someone new
in your father’s life.

You kissed me shyly on the cheek
and included me
in the present for your Dad:

scented bath salts.
“You might enjoy them
together,” you said.

16 years later, you’re not
slim youth but solid,
handsome man.

In one forgotten family drama
we exchanged fierce words.
Now we talk deeply,
good friends.

Submitted 25 December 2011 (a Christmas 19 years later!) for dVerse Christmas. We no longer live near each other, but Younger Stepson is staying with his father and me this xmas, and the last line of the poem is truer than ever.

Cross-posted from my verse portraits blog, Impressions You Left

5 comments:

  1. Nice recollection ~ I like that deep friendship over past fierce words ~

    Merry Christmas to you and your family ~

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  2. gotta love those moments of drama...but i am glad you have come far since...merry christmas to you and your family!

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  3. great that you're good friends now..think it's not easy for kids to accept their parent's new partner..merry christmas to you..

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  4. i'm glad you are friends and not in a stae of not talking to each other

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  5. what a heartfelt story! Glad you are accepted and are a good friend. Merry Christmas, Rosemary.

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