Offering

I can still remember that day, and where I was

Standing in our kitchen, with you in a doorway,

An island in between us, and your face saying it,

That you were going to go, had to go to war.

I can still remember how I felt, how I panicked,

Worrying about where I would live, and

What I would do, and if I could make it.

Staying awake all night worrying about our son,

Just two years old, how he would miss you, and

What I would do to fill the void.

It was only after, after we moved to a different house,

A house near my parents, just before you left, and how,

I came around the corner, to see you standing there,

At the bottom of the stairs, holding him, our son, asleep,

Ready to transfer him from the car to his bed,

This boy whose only task was to forget you,

And how you were holding him, cradling him,

Hands underneath his back and his knees

Like an offering, and how you did not see me,

As you stood there sobbing, and it was then

That I remembered, because I had forgotten.

I forgot that you were the one who had to go.

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One Response to Offering

  1. htothedizzle says:

    Omgosh! I have to stop reading your poems…cause now I have to go fix my makeup. I will keep your family in my prayers. Best, and I hope he is home soon!

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