A tear falls
and I find that it’s pouring
from my eyes and won’t stop.
Cathartic, sure but
will it feel better soon?
All I can do is work on the
humans I have at home.
Teach responsibility they
don’t see at school.
Explain life from my point of view
not as the view.
I ask, then repeat the request
finally explaining that I worry
and worry and worry and wait
until he arrives home smiling.
The good mood is a pleasant change
He speaks in full sentences and looks
me in the eyes without grumbling
roaring with irritable surly contempt.
I thought he hated me, well he said it.
So, I take his words as feelings
I’ve forgotten where he lives when not with me.
In the land of if you say it, it must be true.
Life is not really linear with so many
folks intersecting around a common language.
He told someone like he was proud of the
things we did as artists musicians business owners
My boys grew up in the alternative art land
that slowly imploded into suburbia.
Now I live in the woods
where it is quiet and not so
fantastic. Illness present
balanced with air, space and time
less stimuli so I can see clearly today.