My Mother’s Wrist Watch
A leather band
A train
Gold trim
A tiny button
With one push, the sound of the engine
It travels in its little circle
My mother’s wrist watch
I’d sit and watch
I’d fall into deep sleeps
In closets
In nooks
A story about discomfort
A flash that’s as unsettling
As the sudden horn of the
CSX rails
I’m partial to rocks
Something to hold
Hands always in a fist
Even while sleeping
Dirt falls from this brain of mine
And it rattles out
All the notions
That I could have taken
If I was able to stand and see
What I couldn’t understand
When I was a kid
If only the adult me
Could take their hand
One thought on "My Mother’s Wrist Watch"
Leave a Reply
You must be logged in to post a comment.
This is more than bio
This is more than bad
childhood. What it means
transcends the details