The Question

T

Three times she asked
Three times I denied
In the stillness no laughing rooster crowed
The matter dropped into acidic silence
The bitter pauses of
Corrosive maternal communication
Grace could not redeem
Nor reconcile
Love’s cross purposes
Relationship of taciturn disappointment
Described by separation
Years marked by dwindling attempts at speech
That denial
Rebellions perverse attempt
At autonomy
We were good at what we did
Chosen from eternity
To disappoint the maternal bond
Your final breath
A tortured restless soul’s
Final resignation
Now flesh to dust has turned
Yet from the ground
That question echoes one more time
This time, in silent affirmation
Rebellion transferred declares
I write

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badgerslabyrinth

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