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Saturday, December 5, 2015

Meditation on trains and away from home: Letting Go



Letting Go

When will the eruption happen? I won-
der. I practice meditation techniques
while visiting so I will breath and live.

Ever admitting the fear would be dan-
gerous, so I zip it except once, when
I ask mom to stop and to let me drive.

We argue later.  I was scared, I say.
You scare too easily, she retorts. 
I know exactly where the edges are.

She found my edges, ditch on one side and
oncoming traffic on the other, my
heart in my mouth and my life in her hands.

She seems half crazy to me as she clings
to her rights and independence.  Does she
truly know whether she knows or do I?

Witness of the hour, I don’t engage or
argue.  I try not to look sad as she
lists all the ways she is careful.  She is.

I don’t want her to feel caged, watched and un-
happy.  I don’t want to be the cause of
curtailed freedom.  I want no regrets.  None.

Forgive me, brothers and other drivers
I can’t say never more, be the raven at 
her door, carrying in reality.

I have had her for almost 100
years and so meditate to breathe and
to breathe and to give her loving kindness.




Posted ot Poets United Poetry Pantry #281





(My country roads are in Upstate New York, Greene County on the Hudson River,
given lots of words in my book ReMothering: Poetry by Susan Chast.)



Copyright © 2015  S.L.Chast