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| Flowers by Val Pedrick |
I heard a friend say that he sees his son as an idiot
Because he reminds him of himself at that age
And at that age, he was an idiot.
He wants him to grow up.
I met myself for coffee.
Is my myself my daughter?
The one I didn’t have?
Am I her mother?
The one I didn’t have.
She tells me about a course she’s doing
Another course.
She’s happy, she’s interested, she’s hopeful.
It will lead to a different career, respectful of her, worthy of her.
I listen and feel her pain.
I reflect her happiness, not the futility I’m feeling.
She appreciates my reflection and connection.
6 comments:
A thoughtful and thought-provoking take on this topic.
I agree Irena. The poem is both thoughtful and reflective.
Adam
Heartfelt, tender, sad and wistful. A touching poem I thought.
A gentle, thoughtful poem, raising issues the older and younger self are dealing with.
Such sadness coming through on this
Your poem leaves me wanting to ask more questions. A brave and such an honest piece of writing.
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