While The Mother Sleeps

a mother wakes and views
On the hill,
behind the house
The empty swing hung from the Scotch pine
Swaying in the wind,
waiting to be used again.
the red clay mud grown over with weeds
children's feet no longer stunt the seeds
a mother cries, tries denying they are gone.

The children went away long ago
The toys still in their chest
they remain unused,
but their memory is all that's left

A lone man stands by the river
As the Ohio flows itself away
the years flood back in muddy waters
things once mysterious become known
fishing out his father's mistakes
fishing out his own.
a message in a bottle floats
on years to his son

the hallow.
foggy, covered with leaves
once harboured here a child
hiding in the autumn morn
and from his parents scorn
his soul drank from these streams
knowing life can fall apart at the seams.

a child goes to the door alone
while the mother sleeps
things learned at a tender age
are things learned for keeps
and so the child looks out on an empty world
while the mother sleeps