Whole Damned Sky
As the jet slipped
through the layer of clouds
hiding the sun from the earth below,
my thoughts followed their regular pattern
and fell upon my mother
and her love of flying.
It was a love
that she indulged later in life,
(as so many of the best ones are)
two husbands behind her
and three children grown.
A love she chose when she needed to know
she could need less.
Or perhaps not less, but fewer.
Fewer men,
fewer children,
fewer people who needed her.
She needed to know who she was
when she wasn’t needed so much.
It was a love
that reminded her of things she forgot she owned:
Things like self-reliance,
like tenacity,
and grit…
her autonomy as a woman over forty.
And how she owned that view.
She just owned the whole damned sky.
Copyright 2019 – Laurie Marshall
This poem is being posted as part of the #100dayproject. Find out more here.
