Time is Frozen

A chair balances on its hind legs

There is a fallen lamp on the floor

The light has gone out.

My mother’s face is broken

There is a drop of blood hanging out of her nose

Her eyes are shut

Ready for the bang of the wooden chair on the wooden floor.

Her hands are up as if to defend herself

From my father.

My father’s hand is curled into a fist

His eyes are fire

The muscles in his back are tense.

His mouth is drawn in a tight line

Jaw clenched.

The window next to my father is shattered

Blood from his knuckles stains the glass.

Outside the window

A dog chases his tail

As his owner watches

With a smile of content resting on his face.

Caught in flight

A bluejay’s wings hover above a branch

It will fly away when time is no longer frozen.

It will escape.

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

You create many sad places and visions for the reader. My father was a abuser of woman. Even 50 plus years later. I can see the hate and meanness. A powerful write. You made the reader think.
Coyote