The Burden of Knowledge in Dreams of My Mother

In the dreams she doesn’t know
the hugeness of what is about to strike her down.

Unsure myself of the timing of it
and whether or not I should tell her now

I don’t. Ever. I only hoard
the feeling of tenderness toward her to myself.

The tentative nature of our swapped roles––
I with the terrible knowledge, she not knowing

I solicitous, walking her
towards the edge, the brink of dream

where, Dig! I order myself.
Make a way for her to the other kingdom.

 

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s