Harvest Time
Author: DeAnna


I never understood
Your dark eyes.
That never came
Pain, curses and bile.
While I grew up
Under the swell of your emotions,
You sang songs
Of the deep,
Of a lost soul
Under rubble from the past.

I am a woman now
From the sorrow
By our relations;
Every year
Like stations of the cross.
I experience this
The sun still shines.
I am lost
Even as
The cost of my childhood
Seems less and less
As I plant my own seeds.

In my mirror
I can see you:
The same cynical smile,
The same blank stare.
I don't know where
It came from,
But I have found insight
In the same path
You walked
And now
Your eyes seem like a dream


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