Sun Goes Down Bitter

Sunset is the saddest light there is
when it signals another night
for a blighted, blindfold family

Threats shouted, curses thrown
‘cross the supper table
flung like mashed off a ladle

Someone always slams palms down
Leaves in a huff, mumbling stuff
This time it’s Dad – which is really bad

Cause he’s mad at Mom, anxious
When he’s anxious he wants some
and he’ll take it from someone

who’s smaller than he is
Can’t talk back, can’t fight back
Can’t swallow her vitamin in the morning

© 2014 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil

Susie at Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, “Play it Again, Toads.” I chose a line (“Sunset is the saddest light there is…”) from Sue Monk Kidd’s The Secret Life of Bees, a book I read years ago and now must read again.

The thought of summer sunsets, very sad. Alcohol for Mom all afternoon… two martinis for Dad – after he had stopped for a drink with the guys. He was quick to anger, yet completely arbitrary… kept his buttons hidden from us, but if Mom knew he was “in the mood,” she’s spark a fight and later go to her room and lock the door.

So much for the safely of the suburbs and the oft-Tea-Partied “stability of two-parent families.” I’d have given anything to get them a divorce! Peace, Amy

PS I am not posting much, but I am in a cycle of artwork: acrylics, India Ink, pastels, courtesy of Cornucopia Arts Center of Madison, WI, a free center for neurodivergent people. I’ll try to sneak in some art next time. A


Posted by in POETRY Tags: , , , , ,