A familiar sound
drops boulders in my bellya second before i open the door.
a skull that hit the floor, now bobs up
to greet me in silent relief
Guilt boils over, I let out an angry yowl,
She joins in, confused
I hug her, kneeling on the floor
amidst debris of broken embankments
pillows and bolsters mis-navigated
in her flight from the bed
Fear drives shame away. For a while,
I keep the bathroom door open as vigil,
postponing worldly lessons
to a later date.
Published in The Mom Egg Review, Range of Motherhood folio on 14/09/2020
link: http://momeggreview.com/2020/09/14/thud-by-pooja-ugrani/
