Children in the Shadow of Addiction
Sunlight assaulting.
Piercing the
curtainless window with its
accusing spotlight
Screaming
Guilty! Guilty! Guilty!
She lets out a cry,
wounded, sheep-like,
and looks away
her pupils as large
as saucers.
Saucers
with tiny pink roses
once laid out
on the child’s table
shards now spilling
like mosaic tiles
onto the floor
all shattered but one.
She can’t remember how.
She shields her eyes,
one slight hand
trembles as she covers them
blinding her
to the sight
of the tiny angel
crumpled
like a wadded up napkin
that had been
tossed in the corner
stained but Silent.
A rain cloud
slowly usurps
the power of the angry sun
inch by inch
dulling the light
until the spotlight
goes out
as does she
on the floor
by the broken teacups
(c) Angela McClintock
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WHEN WE LOOK THE OTHER WAY
Welcome to my brain
After years of working with families in crisis, the things I have seen can’t be unseen. I write poetry to get them on paper, out of my brain where I Can examine them In the cold light of day and make my peace Search for:
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