Slight changes in the breeze
coming from the North, wood
block sound chunks from
shutters. It was the
anticipation, breath stolen
by fear and if it wasn’t
next time, it would
be soon, but we could
never hold steady
waiting for any good.
Some days, the love
pierced through her
Detroit armor, her
French denial, some
days, she loved her
own children having
sprayed and cooled the
coals covering her middle.
.
stillfugue 
#1 by clinock on April 11, 2014 - 4:41 am
#2 by Carl D'Agostino on April 11, 2014 - 11:19 am
Mother passed year and a half ago and the death is accepted. But turmoil is daily for me as there are so many positive and negative emotions that I don’t think can ever be resolved.
#3 by Millie Ho on April 11, 2014 - 5:40 pm
Mothers can be some of the most devastating or wonderful blueprints. History repeats itself, but our daily choices make all the difference.
#4 by Evelyn on April 13, 2014 - 8:49 pm
“Detroit armor, her French denial…”
So intriguing, an excellent and well balanced poem.
#5 by smukkecirsten on April 21, 2014 - 3:52 am
Hi Carl, Have you ever heard of Andrew Saul? He was featured in the movie Food Matters, and in the movie he tells how to treat depression. He also has his own homepage, where you can find all kinds of treatments for all sorts of ailments (http://www.doctoryourself.com/). You can find Sauls way to treat depression here: http://www.doctoryourself.com/depression.html. I think it’s worth to take a look at.
#6 by Carl D'Agostino on May 28, 2014 - 1:43 pm
Carl, trying to comment on Mila’s blog(sixthsymph) but password does not work and her email does not work. Same for you?
#7 by Carl on May 28, 2014 - 2:50 pm
I hate to say but i have not been in touch with her in some time. I myself have been in a dungeon, getting beaten by a massive, woolly brown bear.