Mothers & Daughters–Something Observed
by Michael Escoubas
It wasn’t as if I wasn’t there at all
but I was … more or less
standing off at a distance
(which I now regret).
They shared something special:
sometimes with words,
but mostly with the eyes, a knowing,
what the other was thinking,
what the other needed–
something merely observed by men–
too often, though, not felt down deep
at the bottom of things, where it counts.
I think what I missed out on the most,
were the tears, when the down times
came, when words were at a loss,
when I tried to solve a problem
without a silent sharing of their grief.
I wonder if it is too late to change,
to offer now what I kept back then–
a generous portion of myself.
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