Mom At The Prom

| Filed under

Contributor: Evalyn Baron

- -
There is one girl,
Born pure,
Whose vision
Remained her own.
Every time her young scene
Demanded over-writing,
She knew the wisdom
Of few words.
Her karma, clearly,
Was to walk with wisdom
Through the valleys
Of shadowy child play.
Her mission , manifestly,
To gently lead
Where others forgot to go;
Where others never even knew

So, this bleary high school steeplechase
Not only bores, but frightens her,
Though her mother, enlarged through time,
Dances, holding the picture of her daughter’s dress
Up to herself to see if it might have once fit.
All around the mothers smile,
Though only this daughter’s smile is sad.
The comedy continues, laugh track intact,
Though no matter how garish
The mother’s routine,
The clear-eyed girl moves to the rhythms
She hears in her heart.
Her dancing night will fade fast
From what’s important to this blessed child.
But her mother will be cursed
With never forgetting

Her daughter’s prom, and soon the memories
Of her own powder blue tuxedoed tragedy
Will mix, ineluctably, with the photos
Of her daughter’s perfect night
And the years of fat and regret
Will melt away,
Hope Restored.

- - -
Evalyn Baron is a retired Broadway actress, recently moved to San Francisco to get some serious writing done. Her memoir - For Better or for Better: A Story of Divorce, Dachshunds, and Everlasting Love - will get to bookstore shelves eventually. She hopes.


Powered by Blogger.