Palm Grasp Mother Son

by Curt Allday

their fingers were interlocking
twigs between
mother and son

the shadowed sun
matching his black and gold rain coat
shuttling side to side

her smile peeking over
an infinite horizon
a frozen polaroid

stuck behind the cover
of dusty family albums
capturing a moment

as she points
to the public transportation
rattling by

like dolphins spinning amongst the shuffling
waves of his blonde hair hiding the music
circling around the rims of his ears

and not wanting to let go
he felt that if she moved another inch
they may soon drift, over and off, into

forever like nets landing from above
amongst martians and thundercats
resurrecting the TV she smashed

passing another laundromat
watching the sheets spin like the swirls engraved
in her brown leather purse

forward then reverse
shaking like milk cartons
and lighters in full rotation as

their eyes were rolling
as their hands were only twirling
miracles of fate, love, hate,

the in between
where all the love truly
simply, basically, just is

somehow strong

happened upon

like an LP scratch


Posted on 12/13/2006
Copyright © 2022 Curt Allday

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 02/14/16 at 08:57 PM

Intense flow to this, like the love bond forged. Congrats on POTD!

Posted by Rob Littler on 02/21/16 at 08:00 PM

I keep reading and reading and reading this over and over and over and over...and I hear something not present on the page--it's the music. I hear it too.

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