Mother's Day

I once ran under her legs,
Stepped on rocks in the tulip-filled garden,
Held picnics, ate apple slices,
Browned by exposure,
Tasted in euphoria of summer's day,
Yet I was banished all the same.
I've searched and begged for, found and lost,
The meaning of my name.
The all powerful deity
May drop me in the closet,
Throw me 'cross the room,
Tuck me in, wake me up, find me hiding.
Just as sunday evening slips into dark,
Silent leaf covered prayers
Accompanied by apples
Placed gently on cavernous dark-wooden desks.
While suburban lies may never be mine,
And tense tones hide under shelter of tenderness,
I wait and tug on the hand of Escape,
For the day when the cavernous desks seem small,
And Escape tugs back.
Yet, as I return from the world into shelter of home,
With nowhere else to sleep or be,
Two more years until I learn to walk,
To carry me away for good,
I return helpless to cardboard embrace,
Who sees the muddy footprints,
I tracked through the linoleum-and-lie paved kitchen floor,
And the foot-printed mud in the distance,
And grabs my shoulder,
Like when I'd cross the road without looking,
Yet I've been looking 
To cross this path for years.
And yet assumed impulse pulls my weaning dependency,
For a sugar-pill love that's never been there,
Lactose powder sold as cocaine on the street,
On Rolandvue.
The pull of hope that stretches me thin,
Seems too precious to break,
And as I stray from the lengths of its strengths,
It snaps and pulls me back  in,
And as I slowly unlock the bathroom door,
She smiles.
She coaxes me forward with gentle sighs,
Then slaps me and grabs me again,
Serpently snipping my strings,
Painfully splitting my scalar intrigue,
Reeling me in from my sojourn,
Celestial hopes of an alien world,
The prodigal son must pay.

The End

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