There was no time to gather up clothes or toys.
There were never many of either anyway.
when we left
Many times there was a pistol.
Usually there were bruises.
Often it was night.
Once in a storm.
It was chaos when we left,
from the outside looking in,
but we knew our cues.
Right after the fists,
just before the gunshots,
during the screaming.
then we left
Mostly to Tommie’s house.
Sometimes to Sherry’s house.
Once to Doris Sartain’s house
in a storm.
after we left
Morning would come
Breakfast was had
Coffee was poured
Nothing was said
The ground would dry up
Daddy would show up
we'd go back
Cross my fingers
pray to God
plead to stay
come the day
we’d go back
There was no time to gather up joy or hope.
There was never much of either anyway.
Wednesday, August 16, 2006
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3 comments:
My first time here at this blog... I really like this idea; how healing!!
I have heard this story before from a now fearless friend. I wish fearlessness for you as well.
this
is very
powerful.
i like the abrupt
short
sentences
interspersed
with longer ones...
and it is amazing
what people have had
as life experience...
what people come through.
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