Published January 15th, 2024
by Sarah Margaret Dicks
Packing his mother's home,
his old home
An attempt for catharsis
Smoke from Virginia Slims still clouded
His boyhood memories of her
Tapping ash into a ceramic bowl that he made at school,
Pushing him on the rickety, wooden swing set,
Slathering pine cones with peanut butter and seeds for the birds,
Watching him jump over the sprinkler on hot days
He moved away and the smoke cleared
As his worldview grew
Their normal seemed less so
Addictions and brokenness exposed, how could she
love him with everything she had, and simultaneously
think nothing of herself, as if he wasn't the best parts of her
He became a fugitive of his childhood
Apprehended by the pack-a-day habit
Which led to her death
He came home, seeking purgation
Instead, he found himself sentenced
To piercing, painful nostalgia
And the need for a smoke
About the Poet
Sarah Margaret Dicks resides in Tulsa, Oklahoma, United States.
Read the poet's biography on Sarah Margaret Dicks's Artist Page.
This poem is included in Poetry World #8, published in the Wax Poetry and Art Library.
Previously published in Texas Poetry Magazine:
Pink Laces
by Alison Birch
Texas Poetry Magazine is part of the Wax Poetry and Art Network.
- Visit the main Wax Poetry and Art Submissions Page to see all opportunities.
- Visit the Wax Poetry and Art Library.
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