August 10, 2021

Crossing with Mother

(c) 2017 


Mother is always crossing the wrong street—

at the wrong corner—

moving the wrong way.

 

We cross together—

arguing the steps.

 

At some point I began turning

the right way.

I left her behind,

first in guilt, then glee.

 

I haven’t always been careful.

Once my heel caught

in a sewer grate.

A crowd gathered to jeer.

 

Right way, wrong way—who knows?

The streets are endless.

With each passing decade

they lose luster.