Saturday, August 21, 2010

Love, polished and pure

On the whole
your love is good,
pure and polished.  

But say
on the school yard
your son does bad
action one day
-like- perhaps hurting another,
maybe too brusque for taste,
too boy in the moment
embarrassing you,
or perhaps, worst
exposing imperfections.

So you withdraw
symbols of love
-like- eye contact,
silly smiles, voice
and he cries.

He sobs,
begins to shake
like a child
(he is a child)
He reaches up,
to nothing,
or crouches down
into a tiny ball.

“I’m sorry” he whispers
between tears,
hoarse, paused,
then adds
“I’m scared”.

Then, only then,
do you cry
begin to sob,
to sob with him,
for him,
sobbing alone
from a hurt inside
as wide as the sky

And then, right then,
do you know
what love was,
and just what
it might become.

-Glenn Kenyon, 2010

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