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')

Some of these poems are autobiographical, some are entirely fictional, and some are a mixture of both. The intention is art rather than self-expression. I don't allow factual details to get in the way of poetry! (I do seek emotional truth.)

They are works in progress, and may be subject to revision without notice. Completed versions appear in my books. Nevertheless copyright applies to all texts found here.
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 posts as much as possible.

7 April 2011

Unborn Brother

I know you only as
a pair of staring eyes
that once haunted my mother.

My own sons were grown
before she spoke of you,
and she was an old woman.

You had been secret
and perhaps forgotten —
at least buried — all that time.

Old, sick and alone
she found you again
among her guilts and regrets.

I was far away;
we kept in touch by phone.
It became too much to hold

and so she told me —
as daughter or healer?
As we were talking, you left.

Those big staring eyes
that had seemed accusing
gazed more softly, then faded.

She said she felt peace.
Perhaps you welcomed her
later, when she too left us.

(Day 4 - Your sibling, or closest relative)