Hoops Of Self

Poem By Dr. Charles A Stone

my mother leaped through hoops of self
and jumped into the same of her
as quick as now as slow as then
she withered as a vine gone dry

from the get of go -to finish line
the twists and turns left her supine)
upon his want between her tears
the days were passed and nights returned

like ghostly ships with boney crews
whose flesh was sparse, sparse as light
in hellish halls where demons danced
while fiddlers played their teary tunes

and mother leaped through ups and downs
too quick too slow too tired to sing
or look the others in their eyes
where shadows played their hide-and-seek

first here, then there behind the wantness
of her needy needs to have and hold
the truth of lies and when she could
to slip away and slowly die(

on that decembery day in (middle) spring
her self escaped the grassy roots of after, here
and she leaped( into a freedom far beyond
that which she was given or could bequeath

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