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Writer's pictureAlice Wyatt

Flesh of My Flesh

formed of my flesh - mine


a favored child

a gift from God

a whirlwind

passionate

powerful

persuasive



no fear

toes to the edge

peering:

down

out

beyond

over there

what if?

why?



curious, ambitious, energy

“Pick me! I will try!”


successful with

flair and flourish

favored child

gift from God


held in my heart - mine


so soon


much more than me

no longer moon but sun

mine, not mine 



the loss bearable, barely


because this is the way of mothers and sons

so needed, then needed not at all

one left behind

one grown

       gone


a boy no longer


a man - husband - father

  harder, with life-honed edge

  fearing only for wife

   child


   wanting, needing to be more than he might be


   he of tunnel vision and 

scattered prism

everything, everywhere, both, all, neither, nothing

 linear thought circle back: what if, if then, then how, how then


  foolhardy

truth seeker

  quick mind and

quicker tongue


  

He calls his mother. We speak of many things:

evil, worship, war, the Why of Israel, babies dying in Gaza,

parenthood, chakras, Budda, peace, lack of it, falsehood of freedom,

a nation under nothing but self-interest, hope


He utters wisdom,

  imparts clarity in the midst 

  of my mental chaos


  clutching the simplicity of it all,

  I laugh in awe, delight, wonder.



a man, formed of my flesh - so much more than me

no longer moon but sun

mine, not mine


a Gift from God indeed






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