Descendant

She couldn’t see me.
Her blind side
was on
every
side.

She couldn’t see me
the heat
of her past
cooled
by booze
and marijuana
smoke rings.

I stood invisibly,
observing this curiosity,
two feet away…
a hundred miles
away…
makes no difference
when she has her past
to shut away.

The tang of liquor
scented our shared air,
made me ever so more
grateful
of how I drank my last drop
so long ago.

I am looking
at someone
who is looking
at never
recovering
what was taken
by men
who looked
and only saw
what could be taken.

She walks,
hands wave wildly,
batting away
recollections
that surface
as sobriety
begins to stir.

Almost time
for more…

She’s a ghost
of someone that
almost became,
a descendant
somehow
of those
who tried their best.

Advertisements

About skymeetingtheground

Healer, poet, author, yogi, single father...outdoorsy guy.
This entry was posted in Poetry, prayer, sacred poetry, spiritual poems, Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to Descendant

  1. storyland99 says:

    So sad, Charlie.

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s