Picking Up Sons in a Parking Lot

Misunderstanding
the concept “kennel,”
a boy cries quietly
into tissue for three hours
in a car when he believes
his parents are planning
to sell his dog
before holiday travel.
He won’t tell his mother
who pleads gently
to know the reason for his tears.
She makes guesses.
He shakes his head.
She wonders if he is protecting her
from her own imperfection.
She is sure it is her fault.
The divorce wound,
the one he will hide
the way she has hidden hers
for thirty-five years.
Perhaps he doesn’t tell her
he cries for the dog
because he has already
learned that sometimes,
no matter how he feels,
events, decisions and love
are out of his realm of control
and it is no use discussing them.

2012

2 Responses to “Picking Up Sons in a Parking Lot”

  1. Padma Thornlyre says:

    This is such a hard poem to read, Rachel. My relationship with my daughter has lately become so difficult, and so painful to me that I’m facing a despair I can’t even fathom.

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