Sidewalking

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Taken with a gasp,
our severing is swift,
even though my mother,
and I in my enlightenment,
saw the darkness coming.

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At first I jump.
‘Don’t step on the crack,’
but anger builds till my feet rejoice
in a double-footed cementing
breaking of my mother’s back.

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Then faith must carry us,
each to our own square
till we slowly stand alone
and set our worlds upright
allowing our breath to escape again.

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Then, head up, I walk
ignoring the cracks
down my own twisted path,
leaving my mother
perplexed at my pace.

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