The First Cut

Broken glass
Rusty nails
Your lies spoken
The tall tales
Believing you could change
Knowing you would not
The women who left
Quietly in the night
Their perfume
Still lingering
While I
Gasped for air
Remembering
The stillness
Of the room
My breath
The anger
Consuming me
Leaving me
To ache for what
Will never be

Arrows

~Oh the innocence spoken
Under hushed breath
Before the poison
Sets in
And
Your
Digging for words
Like excavating
Ancient tombs
Afraid of what you will speak
Frightened by what he will hear
Each word
A brick
Building a fortress
That surrounds you
Strangling the light
While
Feeding the darkness
And
The monsters that come with it~

My Grandmother's Slip and A Dress That Looks Like Me

I have been wearing her slip for weeks

The one she gave to me when I was sixteen

Vintage lace with an accordion pleat at the bottom

I have felt a connection to the woman she once was

Before the husband and children

Her flaming red hair and languid elegance

Her closet full of evening gowns and silk scarves

I have received three letters in one month

Scribbled on three pages front and back

She misses me and wants to see my children

Mostly

She writes to tell me how worried she is about my dad

She is always worrying about my dad

A grown man who should be worried about his mother

But he will always be her baby boy

And she will never see the damage he has done

The broken souls he has left in his selfish wake

My anger comes in waves and it is my self preservation

Letting it go day by day

He has the heart of an abadoned boy

Which makes it hard to hate him

I just wish he didn't make her worry

She should feel loved and at peace

Not alone in a nursing home

Scribbling letters to her granddaughter

Who is just trying to survive the wreckage...

~Amber Comber

Winter Feet Summer Legs

~My six year old is tough
He is full of courage
And has a very giving heart
He knows when his hugs are needed
The living room is his dance floor
And he welcomes visitors
Be careful what you say around him
It will surely be repeated
He listens and records every detail
In his brilliant mind
He is precocious and his laughter
Will illuminate a room
He will burst out
With a spontaneous
"I love you!"
Filled with sincerity
At least twice a day
At night I am expected
To cuddle him to sleep
He moves his icy feet
Up and down my legs
To calm himself
"Mom I have Winter feet
& you have Summer legs."
He says matter-of-factly
It's always a struggle
To still his busy mind
I listen intently
While he recalls his day
Eventually his feet will stop
And his eye lids will grow heavy
There is a Peace that washes over him
And I am often carried away with it~

Sultans of Swing

~Sultans of Swing

By the Dire Straits

You loved that song

Excited for me to hear it

For the first time

You called me your music encyclopedia

We always connected through music

Even though we were disconnected

In every other way

I sat on that barren floor

Of old cracked wood

While my brother played in the courtyard

Outside the window of your

New lover's

Rundown

One bedroom apartment

I became lost

In the grooves

Of that album

Rocking back & forth

Wrapping the music around me

Like a security blanket

I heard it on the radio

Today

Remembering 30 years ago

Like it was

Yesterday~

~Amber Comber

Missing my pops.💔

Cemetery Gates

Riding through the cemetery
The moon is nearly full
The trees are ultraviolet
Flames against the skyline
The boys ride ahead
Curious
Wanting to read every tombstone
"Mom how did she die?"
"How old was she?"
Greyson kneels to fix a vase
We stop at the Veteran's Memorial
"What are these flags for?"
"Did all these people die?"
They are full of concern
For these unknown souls
Wanting answers
We look up to a family of deer
Watching us from the woods
Leaving with a sense of peace
Days later on the way to dinner
The same buck that stared into our eyes
Lies dead on the side of the road
Hit by a vehicle
Riley ask
"Will they bury him in the cemetery?"

Sweet Dreams

Every night I am asked by Riley if I will lay with him. Some nights I just want to wind down by myself and I feel selfish. He tosses and turns, obsessively rubbing his feet up and down my shins. He is so busy and restless while chasing sleep. I hate myself for becoming irritated by these nightly rituals. Most nights I am thankful for this time because I realize how fleeting it is. He grows in his sleep physically and mentally. He corrects his pronunciation of words that I soon miss and long to hear again. Sometimes he shuns my affections in front of others showing me how independent he is becoming. I know you have to give your children roots it's giving them the wings that is so damn hard. So tonight I just let the present wash over me. He wraps his arms around my neck and says "I love you mommy"; I could see his eye lids get heavy and his limbs let go of the fear of missing out on what happens when he falls asleep. There is a sense of peace that washes over us and I know how precious and irreplaceable these moments are.