fatherless, motherless, where is the child?
by
Juliet Peters
I.
They feel like saints;
they don’t want to be mothers or fathers.
Their children are all alone.
Their children are all alone.
II.
They find out how to fix things,
people who want to feel like dolls.
Their children become their toys.
Their children become their toys.
III.
They observe the mother,
a swan not close enough to extinction.
Her help flew away for no reason.
They scrutinize the season.
She has no food, no replenishment of straw.
They measure her size.
Her young will die.
They jot down their notes.
Her young will die.
IV.
Fatherless children twist up, empty.
Motherless children twist out, not really alive.
Copyright 2010
lamehousewife
Interesting poem Juliet. Check out our blog that also features the poetry of single-mothers.
Peace and blessings