Mom and Dad

I tent myself in silence—an homage to my father

Who chose to do the same, every day of my childhood.

I still stand, waiting to be let into a place

With a fire giving warmth

But cannot find what is necessary for even a spark.

I open myself in fear—a re-imagining of my mother

Who flinched the same way every day of her married

Life and never asked why because she thought she knew

What was expected.

She could not find what was necessary to discover herself.