"Stitches?"
Three
"You never had more than a butterfly;
Never had a broken bone either."
Mother was evaluating herself again.
Much closer than I ever would.
She was as good a mother as
a too you to be a mother
Post-War European woman could be.
It was when my brother died that they fell apart.
My father's tears -- to the bottle.
My mother,
just never forgave herself for a slip of the tongue that night ...
a motherly thought, not well put.
"If you're going out at this hour -- why bother coming home?"
He never did.
She never did either -- never forgave herself for
Something even her motherly abilities could not control.
Stitches .... Sometimes they help to heal
And sometimes the cut is just too large.
©Inkfeather NYNY 2001
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