Mother, please.
When you don your dazzling gown
full of shock and awe,
do you mean to turn your back
on those who need your love?
CHURNING CLOUDS
LIGHTNING STRIKES
SURGING TIDES
BUCKLING ROADS
FLOODED FIELDS
SWIRLING WINDS
FIERY WOODS
TOPPLED TREES
Mother, please.
Wear instead your comfy robe,
embrace us in the arms of days
that serve to soothe
our beaten, battered selves.
gurgling brooks
cotton clouds
gentle winds
lapping waves
tiny flowers
sprouting bulbs
sparkling sands
twinkling stars
Mother, please.
—
Paul Karnowski is an artist, poet, and retired art teacher. He lives on a few acres just north of Asheville, North Carolina along with his dog Bingo. He spends his days growing flowers, vegetables, paintings and poems. His work has been featured in Kakalak 24, Wild Root, and COOP, as well as the North Carolina Poetry Society program, Poetry in Plain Sight.
