The Christmas Gift From Papa She Didn't Like
Slipping in on bare calloused feet-
though my little ears had heard
that friction sound many times before-
placing the doll in the stocking where
a peppermint stick, fruits-
[One of each] an apple, orange,
and Satsuma dangerously,
hang over the dry mantle –just a bit
above the cracking and popping
fiery oak log-without waking anybody
Nothing seems to silence the
Night after nights memories
Of the Incestuous bed
that even sheets couldn't
cover up...
Mama where were you?
Will you'll ever know
How my life turned out?
I can remember seeing mama sitting
at the kitchen table [that was bare of cloth]
burden with the weight of silence, as
she nursed the baby in her arm, while
another stood knee-high
pulling up on her leg,
as the other two girls[six 1/4 and seven]
played in a room nearby
Hopelessly and helplessly
She glances at her little girls
then sorrow fills her heart…
O lord, redeem my soul!
Decades later…
I visited her in the nursing home
Silence had weighed heavily on her head;
Her silver hair wilted on her shoulders; and
Tears commenced to flow Images of hell,
She contemplates heaven at last!
I asked, again, why you couldn’t…
Or wouldn’t catch that thief?
“ Only the grim reaper could catch him”
Almedia S. Knight or ASK { revision 12/19/ 09)
04/24/07
poem by Almedia Knight Oliver
Added by Poetry Lover
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