what I want to know is
was it my fault?
was I the one who
threw the final stone
that knocked you
off the cross and
into the compost
the one who dipped
and filled my bucket
again and again
desperate for more of you?
was I the one who
convinced you
I wasn’t reliable
wouldn’t show up
when it really mattered?
was I the one who
scraped you away
from the scene
where you stood on
the precipice
ready and...
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By Pam Bolton and Kathleen MacGregor
What if I told you
It was me?
I picked up the stone
And threw it
At the bird’s nest
And knocked it down
To the ground
And all the babies died.
What if I told you
It was me?
I took the jumping mouse
From the jaws, the paws
Of the cat
And held it
Warm in my palms
Until, hours later,
It died.
What if I told you
All day yesterday
I didn’t care
And the day before
I...
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Posted by
Pam Bolton on Apr 15th, 2009 in
Art,
Poetry,
photography |
1 comment
The tug in my belly. The tears beginning, the disbelief. How could this be happening? Why? I want this. I hate this! I want a different life. I’m free, finally free! NO! STOP! Do what I want, what I say! Why, how, could you do this? Love someone else, want to be with her, hurt our love? What of our love? What of me? What of our children? I hate you! I want nothing to do with you! I want you –...
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Posted by
Pam Bolton on Apr 2nd, 2009 in
Poetry,
photography |
1 comment
And old.
Fierce wind
whips ‘round me,
loosens and scatters
the dried leaves
of weary, winter fears
and leaves me
almost naked.
Everyone,
anyone
can see me!
No full-grown leaves of modesty
to cover my blemishes,
the turn of my limbs,
my knobby wrists and elbows.
My begging arms,
my ancient, grounded roots
apparent.
I tremble,
springing
with the rush of air.
Shake with the dread
of being judged
too...
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