I’m the dreaming ghost, guest, waitress, watcher, wanting
the words to be true.
Whatever the weapons may come to mean.
……………………………– Adrienne Rich, Scenes of Negotiation
…
You’ve got
it, in spades, she tells
the girl in the mirror with a
crescent moon grin and a wink
that says tonight’ll shine
just fine and another swig of
drink that makes it true.
She’ll tell you
she’s coming apart
at center if you let her,
but mostly she’s holding
it {to get her}
so no one has to see
the darker side.
Sins of the father,
she thinks
as she drinks
and wonders
what ol’ daddy dearest
might’ve done
to leave her here
wandering
……………(wondering)
pondering
this undeserving sky.
..
Prompted by Miz Q.
Whimsygizmo's Blog 
“…pondering this undeserving sky….” Great writing, De.
“but mostly she’s holding
it {to get her}”
Just adore how you take words apart at just the right time.
We survive when that is all we are known to do – those who think they are better, they just don’t know or get it. And survivors stick together 🙂
Kind of like the true solider who is the last to speak of their war experiences, which are always there with them…(or our different battles within us) – only the one with similar knowledge truly understands.
Thanks for stopping by my post on the prompt.
You’ve got my mother’s famous line as your title, and a father inserted into the poem…love it because of these
Deserving of another read! It’s deep
I love the crescent moon grin!
A very menacing poem really, deftly done. Thanks. k.