poetry by j matthew waters

the quiet one in the corner

I try to remember
the lost dreams from childhood
baseball & butterflies
how the lady in the shoe
in the kitchen
screamed at all her children
(but I was not one of them)
all of us pretending
knowing exactly
where we came from

it was the fifteenth
maybe fourteenth century
and mother was making mead
in the cellar
me as a toddler shadowing
her every move
quietly asking where on earth
I could have come from
and ever since
never asking again

may two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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