“Mother, may I . . . ?”
I recall the childhood game, and I
am transported
in time and place to my first innocent
love, sticky taffy shared on the playground
with Scotty, curly haired boy,
a kid with attitude and spunk, later made a
robot by ADHD meds, struggling to awaken and recognize
a friend like me, another kid
with attitude, but whose parents’
love allowed for more freedom, less control
in growth and play. I
am reminded of him in my grandson, and
I will play the old game once more:
“Mother, may I . . . ?”
*First line of Tanith Lee’s book “The Silver Metal Lover,” repeated forward and backward both here in the first word of each line of this poem.
This is about the best title ever . . . . 🙂
Thank you, Tanith Lee is wonderful, and this is among my top ten favorite books.
Good use of the line from the book! 🙂
Thank you! It isn’t difficult to be inspired by Tanith Lee, she’s so evocative.
I love everything about this, it almost makes you feel a bit uneasy (in a good way!)
Wonderfully written.