Oct/Nov 2007 Poetry

The Evening Before

by Jason Kelly Richards

The Evening Before

Mother became a voice on the telephone
for the rest of her life,

Spiderman had Dr. Octopus neatly webbed
and ready for the authorities.

When the sound of footsteps
climbed the stairs,

I shoved the comic book
under the bed and opened

my math book, pretending
to be deep into long division.

Mother enters the room
without uttering a syllable,

and stands beside my bed
staring out the window.

Her silence makes me feel
like I'm being punished.

When she finally speaks,
I welcome the interruption.

"Some days the room is so small
and the walls so close, I feel as if my face

is flat against the glass."
Without another word she turns

and walks to the stairs.
I stand and stare out the window,

but all I see is a sky
turning dark with clouds.


Previous Piece Next Piece