I place my pen to this soggy sheet.
I have no idea where this is going.
So far it's my nameless poem.
My mom lands her gelid palm on my cheek
then defenestrates all tenderness and stares out the window.
Her gaze cast at the carrion crows.
Her bleak eyes make my will weak
as she stares through that window.
Stares as if looking for something
something we both know is not there.