Missing The Point

(Originally published March, 2017, while visiting my mom in Arizona. – Owen)

arising early in the desert, i think about yesterday, and all its sister yesterdays

how naturally i fear what i don’t understand, and how i seem to understand nothing

my mother’s life, so limited now, by my accounting

her casual talk, both of enjoying her life – she lives in a luxurious place –

and of how people now live too long

she spoke of keeping pills she could end her own life with, if necessary

but the staff threw them out

and laughed

and as i sat there wondering,

“who is this woman?”

i saw on her face

that she was wondering

“who is this man who understands so little?

did i teach him nothing?”

 

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One thought to “Missing The Point”

  1. This time would make a beautiful piece of piano music, unique in all the world for all the ages, a lasting gift to both of you.

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