To My Estranged Offspring
Alas, dear loved ones, the door has closed.
Much time has passed, fraught with your silences,
devoid of all contact. Do you ever think of me?
I know nothing of your relationships, marriages,
and your children do not play at my feet. My lap
and arms long to hold their wriggling genetics.
Was my crime so grim? Is the chain forever snapped?
Will forgiveness never come? The years took their toll
and now I find that shuffling along, head bent,
no longer suits my future plans, which include red shoes
and dancing. I will love the orb of my earthly existence,
will hold near to heart all that delights, will clasp to my breast
my lover’s hands, whose tender touch rights what’s wrong.
In his embrace, all wounds are sealed. I breathe deep
the pungent smells of sex, grow luminous, shine
as I spin in sleep, while dreaming of my children,
far from me, lost, their faces neither lit nor spectral.
The door is closed, not locked. Step through, step through.