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Saturday, July 21, 2012

The Crib


Awake in the dark hours
staring at a bright screen
when I
refuse to go back to sleep

this is my inner child
as defiant as ever
even now to me
as an adult

younger I would have
been spanked once
and dragged off to my crib
by one arm
and the lid tied shut
in more than a dozen knots
by mother who knows
how many to tie
to keep me busy
until she's ready to get
me up

and now I have
untied all the knots
to care for her
nearly 94
tied in her own knots
not sure where she is
in a desparate effort
to get out of the crib
she fell into
the crib she made
all by herself

the older I get
the more I understand
the concept of karma
and wonder what awaits me
for all the trouble
I caused my children
It is a knot in my brain now
that keeps me awake
and even lucid as I am
can't untie the last one
wet with my tears
held fast
by my fingers that fumble
in the early morning
before the bright screen
this child cannot leave
these fears of the dark
future of my childhood
as I wait for anyone
to untie me from my prison
that I made for myself


Copyright (c) 2012 by Barry G. Wick
Follow this link to hear the poet read this poem.



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