Cocooned under the covers, I’m pinned by
bitterness, gnawed to the core. The son, Spock,
with anger management problems, versus
mom, whose reservoir dried up after the
water table fell. Can’t wash frustration
out with laundry soap, words stain with dark dye.
Hungry for a kindness unseen, duck stares
from women in the grocery store aisle
who can’t fathom fortified food, sauceless,
tomatoes served separate, strong borders.
Craft a new world. Shift memories into
hopes like when we held hands, ran laughing through
the sand, our kites dip, rise in the wind, nod
yes, over and over, it gets better.