Archives for posts with tag: Children

While my children

sleep

sweetly

in their beds

 

I steal outside

to lie atop

pearly drifts

beneath

an onyx expanse

sparkling flakes

are melting

diamonds

 

Kiss my lashes

peck my cheeks

wet my lips

fill my mouth

saturate me

 

I am torn

whether

to stay

or to lift

my wings

like an angel

 

I look

toward

Heaven,

and I wonder,

How will I

teach

 my little ones

to fly?

                                                     –  Mary E. Kocher

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Neither remembers whose thought it had been

or what drove them, armed with a gnarly branch

and my flower garden hand tools (Shepherd-mix

dog, their only witness), to dig a hole to Hell.

 

After a long dry spell, white patches from a decades-

old salt pit had surfaced on the bare spots. Had they

been caught red-handed, they might have been

warned how shallow the dirt was above the clay.

 

Surreptitiously they kneeled between the rusty

swing set, the woodshed, and the dog house,

gouging Satan’s roof  until they saw red—

clear evidence Hell couldn’t be that far below.

 

Hearts racing, they shoved it all back, faster

Than you could name the seven deadly sins,

deciding Hell was closer than they’d realized—

and waited nearly twenty years to tell their mother.

-Mary E. Kocher