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Rated: ASR · Poetry · Relationship · #2137281
She taught me to smile when the old man would not.

Sharp elbows,
those winks, shared witticisms,
         her silly smile
always upside down,
got me to flash teeth like the old man --
         blues hued deeper by tears of joy
because she could cheer
a lonely, friendless boy.

Said no to his glove and ball,
soared in game the old man never understood;
my shoulders widened, shadowed
the stooping man.
Mother gleamed,
as a perfected visage in chiseled
Roman features formed --
fleet of foot,
         stronger than my decaying
nemesis predecessor.
Though, she could not spare
the isolated torture of belittling words
resonating a lifetime in psyche,
she would
         wink, nudge and we'd guffaw.

         Dismayed, a tired old man looked on.
When breath left her lungs,
her son eulogized a requiem.
Gaunt shadow,
guarded in hidden wing, realized
true emptiness
on the cusp of a new prodigy,
nothing like the first.
Hand on mama's belly,
I would be lifted highest in dreams
         nightly, when
a vibrant woman, robustly
         jabbed, winked, smiled proudly
that unbendable, worldly frown.

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