poetry critical

online poetry workshop


She is weeping in her room,
cat on her lap,
cell phone dead beside her
and a rage against everyone
she ever loved.
We have let her down,
one and all, not reaching
her expectations of survival,
though we tried for a time.
It takes work to love -
good work but hard, too,
finding the chinks to patch
or plumb - their choice.
Her car stands ready but we are not,
those of us who gave hugs and cash,
a place to crash, hours of listening
and trying to reply with hope
while feeling hopeless.
It is like the deep dark just before
dawn breaks, when the terror is almost
too much and you want to scream.
The moment comes when light
is suddenly there.
She is kneeling before a window.
We hear her prayers and bring the dawn.

18 Jun 13

(define the words in this poem)

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powerful and utterly utterly real
 — larrylark