TheBanyanTree: Greener Grass

[LaLinda]

It's been nineteen years
since I came home
a lifetime since I
sequestered
myself
in New England
Leaving
wreckage
to fall into more
complete with isolation enough
to make even home look good
after a decade or so
of wrestling demons
inside and out
mine and theirs


My mother died that year
so young, it's obscene
I'm her age, now
as was her mother, before her and
I think
of how short
their lives were
how tragic it really is
how I'm just getting started
sobered by teenagers
having lost the will
to care
about every single injustice
in exchange
for
a peaceful night's
sleep
yet
each night
holds dreams
of New Hampshire
the street
the house
the friends
my father
sisters

some are gone
others just silent





LL
poet, painter,
matcher of socks,
archive of random
snippets de trop