Arlene Corwin Poetry

       Daughters & Sons

I’m so sad for the mother

That never became what she ought as a woman:

A person to gladden.

Never became what you faintly could call

Happy creature, the features

Of happiness missing in full.

So sad,

And I don’t fully tumble to layered grief why.

Is it that she will die,

Her future a flyby

Without any chance on this planet for joy?

That some of her blood runs inside of my veins,

And gene-derived thoughts in my brain

Are connected to some of her pains?

Of all the denatured, the tortured

I feel a sadness directed at one.

Is it guilt?

Is there something I just haven’t done?

How much mother’s keeper

Are daughters and sons?

I’m so sad.

©Daughters & Sons 98.1.1

Circling Round Woman; Love Relationships; Pure Nakedness; Mother Book;

Arlene Corwin