October 4, 2016

Where is the line, where Mother
Steps back and lets the serious
Mistakes alone? Are we supposed to
Intervene when the mess is catastrophe?

You watch, now from the audience,
Kicked off the stage, long past
Your role as director, as blind
Love leads your son toward torment

And places where he is squashed
Into decisions he never wanted to make.

This is Poem #175 from the  Poem (almost) Everyday Project. Starting in mid-January 2016, I challenged myself to spend a year in which I’d wake most mornings and write a poem before my first cup of coffee. By the end of the year,  I had written 241 poems.  Here, I have published second drafts of  those pieces copied directly from my journal with minimal editing from their “vomit draft” state. 

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