Some mothers
drown their children.
Your mother was
the drowning one,
pulling you down as she
pushed away death.
You slipped under neatly,
held your mouthful of salt.
She never fathomed
the bottom’s nearness,
never saw your eyes
fossilize to sea glass.
# # #
Esther Rohm is fascinated by human beings. She writes poetry, fiction, and fantasy while undercover as an office worker. Originally from the Pacific Northwest, she was kidnapped by mischievous sprites and deposited in Ohio where she continues to live. Nominated for a Pushcart Prize, she has had work featured in Dime Show Review and Silver Birch Press, and is one of 35 authors featured in A Journey of Words (Scout Media, 2016). You can follow her at www.facebook.com/esther.rohm or read her and her husband’s joint blog at www.gypsyhobbit.blogspot.com.
Photo by Samuel Zeller on Unsplash
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The truth is so sad.