Sunday, March 20, 2011

" Peter"` By MysticSilks

This piece was based on a true story.
I saw an ad in a local paper about a new poetry group that was starting at our local library. I am always interested in having that sort of creative energy around me, so I went to check it out.
The gal who had posted the ad was there early, and I guess I was too.
We got to talking about how writing thoughts and feelings helped to cleanse the mind and soul,".. although, I used to write more," she said.
The poem will tell you , for me, the sad unbelievable story.


"I used to write
more," she said.
Her hands once filled
with happy busyness
of doing daily chores.

she labors to keep
her mind from crashing through
the basement floor, burden to capacity
with questions that no one
seems to have answers for.

Wednesdays are her worst:
The ghost of Peter
haunts her with voices
calling, " mommy,mommy" then disappear
behind each open door
and fade like mist
on every mirror.

How was she to know
a giant eagle
would snatch him away---
And she wonders why in hell
she feels so insecure.

Her two year old son , Peter, fell from a shopping cart in Giant Eagle, hit his head and died.


  1. This is just beautiful, Klaire. I can't even imagine what she must be going through.

    I write poems too. Not so much anymore, but when things were really difficult it was a way of letting it out.

  2. Thank you Chris fore taking the time to read and comment.