Monday, February 20, 2017

mother cries at the gate
she holds your hand through the bars
but she is going back

it will be a long journey then
to be here
even to these bars

these bright lights
these painfully shining linoleum floors

as two separate points
you get farther away from mother
your mother gets father away from you

who knows when a journey
might bring you to her
or her to you

you stay at the gate
after mother is taken away
dots her tears on the floor

like a path
to another locked and closed door


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