In the Mother’s Shoes

On the verge of a nap

This thought rode in

On a horse of remembered grief

In a moment of drunken ineptitude

My father to my mother spoke,

“You don’t send me sexually anymore”

I imagine that scene

Shame dripping in my mother’s tears

My little brother crying silently nearby

Trembling and cast aside

She stood still and alone

Unable to move or trust love again

Pain ripped through her heart

And, therefore, mine

Dizzy and made hard as granite

Caught in the emotional cross hairs

I forgave my father, professing need 

Running to his inviting words

Her anguish inconsolable

The sorrow unforgiving

Rejection active to the end.

But today in the drifting to sleep

I could stand in her shoes

And embrace her pain

In that act

We are both forgiven

Life is restored