Climbing

All through the years

No he doesn't know when it started

Love grown and be big

But his shadow remain

Wrapped up in thick linen and silk

Gray and dull as the walls he built

Warmth among cold

It was all the same

Management still could not reach

Tiptoeing around a dark spiral clear

He didn't want to cause her strife

But the dearest grew weary each night

Years gone past

Two growing fast

A son a daughter

Parents alike

Mother couldn't bear to see him that way....

Her views not his own

He knew what she would do

The instant it became clear

All respect would be gone

The shadow loomed forever more

"Why don't you look after them."

Her voice so clear

But to him it was an empty box

When the day became night

A silver strung up

The children the first

The mother the last

The men came in black and white

As soon he did

Never come back to life

Author's Note

A story within a poem.

Reviews

[dan]

A very well written piece. I must confess that I read it three times and I really can't deduce what it is about: perhaps something to do with your mom or parents, the twists and turns of growing up, the difficulties growing exponentially as one ages? I want to stress that the structure and tone are sturdy and proper, the meaning is probably there for all to see, I'm just not seeing it. That is on me. take care...dan

[Riv]

It's actually about depression more than my own mom and dad.

[Willard Wells]

Not my favorite of your work, but saying that I should be able to tell you why and I cannot.. Maybe my mood and have nothing to do with your work, so take my words this time lightly. Thanks for sharing.