no word of comfort can she hear
______________________________
the storm caught her
huddling in the rain
a sweet girl, eleven
heartbroken…
in the autumn wind
(brushed with pain)
in the same scene
precise from childhood
the light is the same
exactly
repeating
the same scene from childhood
precise, exact
*
experienced again…
she’s a caring mother now
she calls her daughter
tells her where the food is on the counter
feeds her from a cellphone
across town
in the storm
she eats nothing herself
all day
*
in the wind & the rain
abandoned, lost
rejected by mother,
she with a tender heart
in the rain
not worthy of food
deserving nothing
she was told
feeling repeated
moments,
angry…
*
homicidal sometimes
*
stares off into the distance
shunned and ridiculed
by “caregivers”
deserving nothing
they said
abandoned, ignored
the same feeling returns
as when she wandered the streets at age 11
and slept in the back
of a truck
*
blamed by a psychotic helper
for every failure
a bird with a broken wing
at my window
huddling in the rain
*
I hear her on a cellphone
gives tender care to her own daughter
11 years old now, too;
she makes certain
the girl in the distance is fed
“make yourself some chocolat milk,
eat that piece of cake on the counter”
*
as a penguin feeds her children
with her own blood
she will not make
the same mistake
as the others made
with her
*
*
a wet bird huddling at my window
with a broken wing
caught for a moment in a ray of sunlight
eats a little
she shivers
glances sideways
will not look at me
jumps away,
leaves
*
stares off into the distance
makes to fly
tumbles
away
below
I see her motionless on the lawn
by the bus stop
broken wing alone
wet, unmoving
confused
*
drowned in the rain
absolutely
she still feels it
even now
rejected, solitary
as when a child
this feeling is exactly the same
*
when she is at my place
no word of comfort can she hear
anything I say
means nothing
she stares into the distance
feels her wing break
again, repeating
sees the same scene
once more
exactly as it was
back then
*
where once she was
abandoned, injured
that very first time,
hurt and ignored
*
a bird at my window
wet in the rain
how I want to help her
to ease her pain…
but I am not allowed,
to speak or to say.
To K with love.
(C) 2015 by W.G.Milne
