At three I made my own breakfast
from milk and orange juice
a bowl and box of cereal
an unseen hand placed on the lowest shelves.
I was straight and sturdy
proud of my little self.
I never knew.
At twenty, I shunned marriage
turned away from my fine job
headed West--
the summer of love
North Beach poetry
music in the parks.
I was a rebel. I would be different.
I never knew.
"My art comes first," my new husband cautioned
as we left the justice of the peace.
He was crazy
chased women
drank.
Onward I marched
Athena, sword drawn.
I never knew.
Ah well. You've heard the story.
Single parenthood
my own crazy
choices that seemed bold and new
creative and affirming.
Until they died, Mom and Dad,
I never knew I marched behind
an invisible shield they held before me.
At last I see, at last I know.
photo courtesty of Willow. Read more writing from this prompt on Magpie Tales.
