Dazzling

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my son went missing this easter weekend. he was awol for forty-eight hours and phoneless. being a mother i fought against thoughts of the worst. i sought reassurance through social media and saw signs of life at some degrees of separation. sick pacing, feverish waiting. repeat the mantra: i'm sure he is fine. but i was not sure. violent pictures with tragic endings spooled in my consciousness. there was no rest, there was detective work. the police were called. my son finally came back and was perfectly innocent. of course he was fine.

in that thick black wood
fear is silent in the roots
striking with dark force

my ex went to hospital in an ambulance this evening. this afternoon i had phoned to say i was on my way and he said he couldn't talk, he was sick, and i then heard him retch and then he hung up. when i got there he was writhing and groaning and whimpering on the floor and none of us knew what to do. part of me stood back thinking, come on, it can't be that bad, but his groaning and writhing and whimpering got worse and he was beyond speech and had filled a few buckets with vomit and so i called an ambulance and they took him to hospital. i have still no idea what is wrong but of course he'll be fine.

in that bright white cell
pain is glaring in its rage
blaring with brute force

my face is blue in the glass this evening and fatigue is a steamroller. i have work to do for tomorrow and i have not touched it. i am keeping busy with that which is not work and i have eaten too much food and my pink jeans cut sharply into my middle. yawns repeatedly cleave my blue face in two and my daughter's bed calls. she is not at home and i am at her place. her brother lies in a bath, splashing like a seal. we must both get ready for bed and get ready for friday. i am exhausted and am scared of the third crisis. i tell myself of course i'll be fine.

in that thick blue fog
sleep is prowling on the floor
creeping with cold force