Supporting transformative works
The entrance to the tent

Another mother poem: Fears





I can't wrap you in gauze.
The world is sharp.

Someone will hurt you
and I won't be there to swoop you up.

Your tender heart will be broken
in ways no one can repair.

Or we'll hurt each other.
You'll yell that I don't understand.

The words "I hate you"
will be your rusty knife.

Long after you leave the room
I'll be dazed from what I've lost.

This week's prompt at Big Tent Poetry invites us to write a poem with something scary in it. I suspect the suggestion was meant to get us thinking along Halloween-y lines, but when I started thinking about what's scary to me now that I'm a mother, my thoughts went in a more personal direction.

Here's a link to this week's Come One, Come All post so you can see what others wrote in response to this prompt.