on a whim and a whisper

over the woman's left shoulder
your breath hummed
a background dirge...
for the echo of her lonely feet
plodding the snow-covered streets
to St. Elizabeth’s Hospital,
dripping shame with her broken water
while you wed another in the Byzantine manner
No used-goods for you though you were the user
The child born saw the mote in your eye
growing like Pinocchio’s nose
when, as kin to a secret vice,
you kept her in your dresser drawer
to be pulled out on a whim and a whisper
Is anyone looking?
You missed the wedding
and the short tortured marriage ...
You were never there
to teach her how to be with men...
and you weren't there
when the boy was born
One year,
in honor of Father's Day,
they dug up your casket
popped the lid open
and set themselves free at last

© 2017, poem, Jamie Dedes (The Poet by Day and Coffee, Tea and Poetry); Phoenix Rising photograph courtesy of morgueFile

Categories: poem Poetry

2 comments

  1. Renee said on September 15, 2017
    Beautifully rendered and thought filled poem.
  2. Jamie Dedes said on October 10, 2017
    Thanks, Renee!

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