When I see Mom that morning
I know
what all the noise
has been about:
her black eye,
a shadow I can’t really look at.
And now we’ll come up
with a story:
this is our family vacation after all and we’re here
at Russell Court hanging our heads.
I’ll be free of these people,
but then I know I never will be
as I see my own hand about to
strike, an action I can’t stop.
I note it. As another wrong. I’ll never right.
