Under Toms’ Thumb:

I know,

THAT

sound-

of your footsteps on the floor.

I swore,

never would touch the ground-

Angels forgot to sing, cause we were together...

Come fly, solo, don’t count on me..

your actions spoke to me-

I have said goodbye to you,

so many times,

that my love for you —

had become a stranger

on a subway...

I reached out to hold you,

but there was not enough,

elasticity in my bones to touch you...

I cradled,

my cheek in your chest,

in HOPES

to feel the familiar rush of the race...

Alas nothing ,

but the chirp of crickets.

I tried desperately to rationalize,

your irrational behavior-

UNTIL

you became irrelevant,

in my future

I had become demure.

The only, cure

to leave while,

I still had breath in my lungs to take in.

I am more cautious now,

I don’t let anyone in....

Every night,

I tuck in, our daughter.

My heart,

indefinitely defends-

She is a choice,

I would make over again,

Even as a fortune teller,

warns me,

Child,

you will spend many nights

alone...

In a bed,

made only by your two hands.

Day in and day out

your confidence will shake like an

earth quake

Your voice will tremble

like the high hat on cymbals

It’s merely a thimble!

Her little corn of barely,

flowered into a tiny girl.

No longer, under the thumb of Tom.

This mother,

takes her green thumb,

AND

One, two, three, four

I declare a thumb war!

She plants her garden elsewhere

for her daughter Eden.

Paradise is where our family begins!