a work in progress

I started throwing images on paper to deal with some stress...here's what's
working itself out.

The blunt ache
of raising a son
Whose father
abandoned him
seeking gold and Nirvana
of the needle
the snort
the comfort of hops.
We ride a roller coaster
Subtle undulations
of hormones
puberty
the mistrust of age.
There are moments
each day
my heart is delicately
sliced open
lemon juice
salt
dripped dripped
carefully
into the wounds.

I forage
thru my experiences
to find a salve
a reckoning
a bread crumb trail
of reasoning.
I implore
the forces larger
than myself
for strength
for tenderness
for the right words.