Red Rain Boots

†by Kimberly Potter Kendrick

 

He desired rain boots,
specifically Red Rain Boots
She being she
and him being him
She knows wants are not needs
He knows what he wants
He knows her
She knows him
Together they scheme

Stores around the town
Stores online
Zealously searching
Suddenly she spots them,
Red Rain Boots
Her fingers quickly work
Available sizes
There it was in black and white
A boys size 10
Red Rain Boots† boys size 10

The wait begins
The wait for the Red Rain Boots
The wait for him
Far away in miles, in hours
Close in hearts
He knows she loves him
She knows he loves her
She knows he'll love his new Red Rain Boots

The day arrives
He comes to visit her
She holds the box
Eyes widen
Uncontrollable jumping
Bursting with excitement
She shows him how
He puts on his new Red Rain Boots
She knew he wanted Red Rain Boots,
but she was not aware of his intense desire

Red Rain Boots worn to the beach
Red Rain Boots worn to the library
Red Rain Boots worn to the grocery store
Red Rain Boots worn to the doctor
Red Rain Boots worn to bed

His joy is her joy
He loves his Red Rain Boots
She smiles because she love him



My Son and I

 

 

My son and I, we live each other's lives.

She said, "That's good. You can relate."

That's not the words that came to this mother's mind.

My son and I, we live each other's lives.

We know the torment of the mind.

The battle of will.

The ups, the downs.

The agitation, the elation.

 

My son and I, we live each other's lives.

We see each other's souls although there's 30 years between

The terrifying emotions that pull us together and rip us apart.

 

My son and I, we live each other's lives.

It makes a mother cry to not be able to stop the cycle.

To stand helpless at times,

As destruction tears through her son's eyes.

 

My son and I, we live each other's lives.

He too experiences the helplessness,

He hears his mother's cries.

The kind for which there is no comfort.

 

My son and I, we live each other's lives.

Family strong,

Blood runs deep,

We express ourselves differently, yet we are the same.

It cannot, will not change.

 

My son and I, we live each other's lives.

 


The Invisible Girl

 

There is no rhyme or reason

For the ups and downs

For the swirling thoughts in my head

Racing so fast

Obsessing by day

Waking at night

Happy, sad, elated, depressed

Anxiety, agitation, anger

I hate them all so

Each separately and together

Making me want to crawl into a hole

I gasp for breath

My chest feels tight

No one notices

I tell no one

Secrets I keep

And so in time

I became the invisible girl

 

Iím just another human

Existing on earth

I struggle to survive

Wondering who I am

My identity has disappeared

I once was a worker

Deep depression

Stole that away

A mother I am

My babies are grown

Each having a life of their own

A wife I have been

That too has gone

The pieces of me have crumbled away

Iím no longer needed

I wonder each day

Where this person I was?

Where did she go?

What remains is the invisible girl?

 

I ponder at times

Who I am?

What do I like?

Where do I fit in?

Introverted, isolated, alienated

There does not seem to be a place for me

Where is my trust?

Where is my faith?

How do I become what they call friends?

Finding my place in the universe

For these quickly passing moments in time

The invisible girl

Alone she must be

 

My dark, secretive, little world

Makes it hard for people to see

I am somebody

I am me

Invisible I feel

Invisible I see

The fog is so dense

The thunder claps loudly

I cannot see

I cannot hear

But neither can they

So I remain a no one

The invisible girl

Lives in me

 

 

Kimberly Potter Kendrick graduated from Virginia Tech with Bachelor of Science degree and attended graduate school at Virginia Commonwealth University.  She recently relocated to Brandon, Florida with her teenage son. ďMy children and grandsons are my heartĒ. She is excited about life in the Tampa Bay area and continuing to express her creativity through writing and painting. She has been previously published in The Literary Yard.

Contact: Contact

 



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