Page 32 - San Diego Woman Anna Adams

POE TR Y FR OM DOM GA GLIARDI

Day one The Spaces In Between

of a thousand day ones provide no soft landings.
when you wonder It’s the disconnection,
if this is the day suspended between dangling polarities,
when you will reach pushed and pulled to reach either side.
deep enough A step forward, a step back,
into your strength still feeling like you don’t belong,
perhaps your faith mired between what once was
to crush the demons and urges and what could have been,
that cripple what should have been.
and cause you to feel less than whole
Defying space and time,
day one existing anachronistically,
of a thousand day ones hungering for the love from
when you gaze in the mirror once again a missed opportunity,
and pretend you don’t recognize thirsting for the knowledge of sentient solace,
who you are feeling betrayed by your presumed reality
what you are so, you no longer fit in
but deep down where you once found comfort.
you know exactly
what you’ve become But now the grip of nihilism
drags you down
another day one into the darkest of spaces,
of a thousand day ones where there is no longer room
when the excuses to agree to disagree,
to refuse to change to seek forgiveness,
remain unfettered and abundant to mend the pieces of broken hearts.
when weakness Yet the answers, if you can find them,
still consumes reason lie in the spaces of the in-between
because tomorrow will be another day one where there are no soft landings.
perhaps it will be then

When a Mother Becomes an Angel

When a mother becomes an angel, When a young mother becomes an angel too soon,
the man sons become young boys again, the boy sons
recalling their cries in the middle of the night, try too hard and too fast
as her gentle touch to become men who want to bury their grief
soothed their pain and harden their souls
or calmed their fears, to never be hurt again,
like the time they were lost and aimless and while they question the reason
in a crowded wood that hovered over them, for feeling abandoned
eclipsing the sun they cling to their few memories before they fade away.
and devouring their hopes of ever being found again,
the same way they feel now Whenever a mother becomes an angel,
lost and rudderless, she never leaves her son,
floating between the heights of gilded memories and he should not feel abandoned.
and the depths of despair, Whether he is a man feeling like a boy,
refusing to let go of the maternal bond, or a boy trying to be a man,
afraid it will someday disappear. one day he will see there is no difference,
for her comforting arms will forever be open
and never disappear.

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