would drive his knuckles between my shoulder blades,
bruise shoulders, spar insults until my composure failed.
I asked him to quit, explaining, when you ___, I feel ____,
I petitioned family to intervene to be told it's my fight.
patience snapped: I scraped my boot in a kick down his shin.
drama queen, he hopped howling. our family laughed, applauded me.
withering thoughts at the philistines who would think my action proper.
defiling my Gandhian principles. I would need to raise myself. (again confirmed)
years later, I attended none of his trials. from prison he asked for my picture,
for correspondence, by phone he asks family to speak to me.
20 years of refusing to engage. this isn't peace nor peaceable.
1 comment:
amazing how things like that stick with you...how difficult it is to come to peace with it.
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