Murmurs

The wind rakes his fingers through the weeping willow’s tangled hair
She murmurs in response,
Seagulls swirl above, ca ha ha laughter their commentary
Picnickers scurry like nervous squirrels to pack up their cars,
As a curtain of raindrops advances across the bay

I stretch my arms out, waiting, wanting to feel anything but numb and alone
To be drenched by a thousand tiny fingers that have touched me
Feeling more invisible than the wind
My family talking over me, ignoring my words
Until I am silent, silenced
In that moment I understand elder abuse
Too ashamed to acknowledge children who milk you like a cash cow

You need someone to lend you their voice
And this is my salvation
Being better at speaking for others than myself

 

 

About the Poet:
Although previously published in “Scaling the Face of Reason: An Anthology of Canadian Poetry”, an eventful family life and successful career did not leave enough space for poetry. After germinating in the rich soil of motherhood and work as a nurse, Kimberly Peterson now returns to poetry full time.

 

Photo by Wokandapix.

 

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