marathon

she dreams of dead babies

that he has forgotten.

he walks ahead,

his stride too long

for her to keep pace.

for him what is past

is past,

never again to be acknowledged.

she cannot leave the past.

it will be on her back

forever.

he is blind to the stones,

the darts,

the impediments

thrown up in their path.

she is not.

she shrieks

“I will not have this!

I will not submit!”

as she pounds her bloody fists

into the earth.

yet

she is still to be

found

here

on this pockmarked path.

 

 

Reviews

[DrD]

It is strange how the insensitivity of one person can heighten the sensitivity of another. This work can be applied to so many situations but what comes to mind immediately for me is what the wives of Nazi war criminals must have felt. "What is past is past" is the theme heard from all of them and yet the suffering continues in its own way. I truly enjoyed this one.

[Sami Khalil]

A marathon on pockmarked stones of the past...Brilliant...:)...........

[Lyn Anderson]

This is brilliant. What is past is not necessarily so, nor does it need to be.:)