I was simply a child

when she left me

standing here in tar shadows,

and closed the door.



Mama, do tell me why

you went so quickly.



I prayed out loud to the grainy white ceiling

hopefully, of course,

because I was simply a child, and

when a soupy voice dribbled through the

crack beneath my door,

it was just my father hushing me.



You gave not one word of warning;

how was I supposed to know if you

did not show it?



I lay there, nailed to the bed

when the willow outside

my window was navy blue.

Her voice was dancing on the radio

static and I was listening to its

quiet melody.



I just wish that I could find you for

one moment so that I could scream

things at your face.



I breathed the heavy days away

with my eyes squeezed shut,

and everything here that was

her I pushed aside,

until one day I find the strength to face it.