“smothering years”

Written for:  The Twiglets #317 - smothering years

Golden years 
smother the dreams
of where and who
you thought you would be.

Her mother–in the name of love–
smothered her early years
with fear of childhood
sports, games, and animals.
Grown now, her phobias rule.

water rises
above the spring heads
of lotus blossoms

         The building he lived in for years
        was smothered in odor-causing tears.
               A neighbor in 2A
           cooked cabbage every day.
 When they moved out, even grout was scrubbed front and rear.


About purplepeninportland

I am a freelance poet, born and bred in Brooklyn, New York. I live with my husband, John, and two charming rescue dogs–Marion Miller and Murphy. We spent eight lovely years in Portland, OR, but are now back in New York. My goal is to create and share poetry with others who write, or simply enjoy reading poetry. I hope to touch a nerve in you, and feel your sparks as well.
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3 Responses to “smothering years”

  1. Misky says:

    But I love braised cabbage! 😂


  2. Debi says:

    I love it too, but they don’t bottle it like perfume 😂


Comments are closed.