My mother and words

My mother and I both smash
our words, as we try to speak,
pressed close against
our windowed worlds.
We see each other clearly,
but each is barely heard.
No-one is prepared
to break the glass.
My head aches
from, the fog of thoughts
which stream and melt
and fall; a mist across our vision
no message passed at all.
And still,
my mother and I both smash
our words as we try to speak.

 

1987

Advertisements

About rosross

Editor, writer, poet.
This entry was posted in Uncategorized and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s