Child of five stands outside
His first grade class.
His mother leaves him at the door,
full on frustration,
She marches to her car,
drives on her way.
Eyes stormy with tears
stare after —
Stomach hollow,
Heart skips a beat in disbelief,
Suddenly a shriek
of monstrous exclamation.
Left on his own to face education,
by strange sharp faces;
Sentenced to the power of year twenty five,
dispensed with no sign of maternal compassion;
the harsh pain of separation multiplied
by a terrified child’s active imagination.
THH
6/10/25
Thoughts Have Hands 