If I was my mother,
and you were a horse,
I would not wrap the lead
into my fist
as we walk the track
with their ruined nissan huts
patch up by ivy,
so we can’t see through
the hollow sockets
of broken windows
to the emptiness inside,
always emptiness inside,
and always me with a fist
of lead
to draw you closer
to heel
in case the emptiness
is not what it seems.
Carol J Forrester 
Very nice.
Thank you Sarah.
Very deep, rife with maternal stress and frustration. I see it as a letter to your children, who will inherit a world they did not make.
I think we all inherit a world we did not make. Every generation is recycling what the previous generation has left to them.
Ominous emptiness and ‘hollow sockets of broken windows’ – I don’t want to be left behind after Armageddon.
Nice lines about the broken windows to the emptiness inside.
Thank you Frank.
Ominous and embodying well the constant tension of motherhood, just trying to keep everyone unharmed, but often at mother’s own detriment.
It’s really interesting how many people have linked this to motherhood while I was actually remembering walking the family dog past the old world war two buildings crumbling around my parent’s farm.
The veiled sense of threat in the emptiness that might not be what it seems- as it moves from inside the ruins to inside the person, the striving for some sort of control by clutching the dog’s lead tightly, the overwhelming persistent delapidation that sprang from violence, still the clutching tighter, still the uncertainty, the threat, the emptiness. This is beautiful and disconcerting and spot on for the prompt. the emptiness staring back at us until it is inside us. Ghosts of past and present.
I wonder what is the scariest… an empty house or one that maybe is not.
Wonderful….the way the thoughts seem to take a walk along with you until the ending which is thought provoking, even a bit eerie.
I love this a lot ❤️❤️❤️ It’s very inspiring and nice ☘️. It is a great honor to be in your blog 🙇