mother

mother

it's that word
moth,...her
to be mothed.

i wonder soft,
swadled closer

are you? and why,

i imagine you in newspaper rooms
in glasses
a secretary

i imagine you with my brother
the getaway without my father

where you'd end up,
maybe california

i imagine you far away from here,
mothing your wings toward a right light,
and not the misguided orange city


jan 4 2014