***
The Distance

a long time ago
my mother sat and I
watched clothes drying
late afternoon sun
filtered through
grimy windows of
the laudrymat
in a town I did not know

we talked sparingly
in dark themes
muted words
eyes blinking frequently
so not to spill

time had passed since last
we met in a far away land
where we both grew
both lived until I left

we spoke amongst surrounding
shadows as weight like a mountain
dangled above
our thoughts, our lives
those seconds spent
in most unfrequent visiting

apart, we had grown

so close
yet
so much
distance
it is not natural
to be so sad

fourteen years
of days and hours
seconds slowly seeping
and
I am here
in the town I did not know

before dawn
I hold my sleeping son
his tiny hands
rest in mine

half his life has passed
since she last saw him
she comes tomorrow to hold
his hand
this time
distance will not win
it is not natural
to be so sad


--INZANE

-------
Distance always extracts its price. I like your poem very much esp stanzas 2.4
-------
what a great opening--such a skillful transition I expected a sunlit clothesline and found myself in a stale laundromat. love the line "apart, we had grown."
Are you a parent now?
--chandler
-------
beautiful and entrancing...good work. ms
-------
chandler, yes, I am now a parent and what a blessing it is, thanks for asking...it is nice to see some familiar names after years of not visiting this site. IZ
-------
"It's not natural to be so sad"...I love the repetition of this line. Greag. Phenom*