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Click hereWe played up on the grass as
A mother drove into the lake
with children safely in their seats.
forbidden, not in the lot
not a random lot deciding which
Children are put to bed never to rise.
fate shall become us, playing upon the
slope, among pine trees facing
Murder, Suicide, family.
my silent dad, stoically frantic
in the car
I did not know my mother was being
shrunken inside
emotions being made to fit back within
a containment of her own making.
I did not know my mother was being prescribed
chemical deeds
to house the safety of her
self and children.
I learned many years later
that but by the grace
of my mother
and drugs, and doctors, and dad, and us, and sunshine
my name would be read by strangers
who would have no sympathy for such an act
never to understand how close I stood.
Time like a river flows smoothly ~ sometimes hitting the rapids for which there can be no return. Poignant!
Two tales skillfully interwoven
One ending tragically
The other much earlier with a happier outcome.