Lost Child
I was a boy, you my mother.
For the first time ever you were gone.
I went one way, you another.
I listened for a voice like none other
that called me every day at dawn.
I was a boy, you my mother.
You’d always been there, Mother,
in every picture I’d ever drawn.
I went one way, you another.
You weren’t the type to spoil or smother
& I was not the type to fawn.
I was a boy, you my mother.
At last I found you with my brother,
your favorite son, on the lawn.
I went one way, you another.
You loved me how you could, Mother,
& now each day I find you gone.
I was your son, you my mother.
I went one way, you another.
30 thoughts on "Lost Child"
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Oh !!!! Unbroken i think….wow!
Formal attire, I think you put on yer Sunday church clothes…..
Bravo!! Mr. Nance
Thanks Coleman!
The hypnotic repetition in perfectly effective. In my mind the poem itself is perfect.
Thanks, Linda. It’s the first villanelle I’ve ever written. I’d wanted to write one for years and finally got around to it.
Delicate, simply drawn villanelle. So affecting, revealing. I’ve never seen a villanelle so vulnerable. Speaks volumes, sir.
Thanks Manny!
For a first I’d say you hit it out of the ballpark. Tender and loving!
Thanks Bill!
Great use of the form, Kevin!
Thanks Joseph!
the concrete image of lawn where you found them makes the poem for me (as well as the repetition)
Thanks Gaby! The poem actually blends two different incidents from my childhood: one where I got separated from my mother in a dime store with two entrances, and the other involving the lawn. We were always losing each other.
Love the form and the sad tone in this piece.
Thanks, Linda!
Masterfully done, Kevin. and poignant how “Mother” rhymes with “another.”
Thanks Nancy!
Bravo on your first villanelle!
I love the tension in the poem – the tension that can and does exist. between mother and child.
The rhyme and rhythm intensifies it.
Thanks Rosemarie! You’re right about the tension. It never went away.
I love the clean simple lines that in repetition amps up the tension.
this line speaks volumes:
At last I found you with my brother,
your favorite son, on the lawn.
Thanks Pam!
Damn, the two refrains act like a mournful echo, constantly returning to the core painful reality. Masterfully done!
Thanks Jeremy for that sensitive reading.
Magnets pushing and pulling. Wonderful tension building. Me too congrats on your first big V!
You weren’t the type to spoil or smother
& I was not the type to fawn. – loves these lines
Thanks Sylvia. These old forms scare me in a way—they are such straitjackets—but they offer the reward of participating in the tradition, which is no small thing. And of course they’ve survived for a reason.
Wow – gripping.
I loved, “You’d always been there, Mother,
in every picture I’d ever drawn.
Thanks Wayne!
I agree with Nancy. This is a hard form to capture and make sense of (for me at least!) and you accomplish something masterful and timeless, personal and universal here
Thanks so much, Shaun! I appreciate it.
Love the repetition and form
❤️