Skip to content
Linespedia

September Fifteenth

By sweetbrother

Topics: Poetry Source: AllPoetry Original source

She wakes in the morning anticipating her day awaiting gifts of love. But where is Daddy? He is somewhere dreaming, as always, walking along some deserted street, bathed in the rain with a bottle tucked in his pocket; something to ease the pain of remembering... And where is Mama? She is somewhere sitting crossed-legged on a dusty floor in a dim room with a glass tube clenched between her lips too numb to dream, her head filled with silent starbursts and, later, only aching needs. This morning, she doesn't care enough to remember. This is their child's day; her only gifts are solitude and an empty box to play with. Written December 13th, 2001 © on Dec 13 2001 01:37 AM PST   18 • 0 • 1

AI analysis available. Enable JavaScript to interact.

About this line

"She wakes in the morning..."

Attribution & Rights

Author:sweetbrother

Source:AllPoetry

"She wakes in the morning..." by sweetbrother

For usage rights, copyright concerns, or to report an issue with this content, please visit our Copyright & Report page.

Related lines

"She wakes in still, wee hours in an ancient house that groans in restless sleep Just outside her window she hears the low sound of a breeze wrestling with the boughs of trees and nuzzling the surface..."

"I watched her dance on Beale Street, her long hair flipping in the breeze, slender limbs in constant motion as if worked by puppet strings in the hands of laughing gods I had seen her, just that day,..."

"Twenty-Second Streetgleams outside the windowcaffeinated musiccrushes the earthe young and beautifulchatter and relaxthe scene is all the way liveI am all the way aliveDupont Circle's ghostsdon't foll..."

"I see a young woman in a garden with sturdy, patient hands that nurture fragile growing things I see her eyes watching a chrysalis about to burst with life, then, the unfolding dewy wings of a delica..."

"She is a festival for my mind and eyes; I drink each drop of her satisfied, but wanting more I struggle to keep up with the quickness of her and the quickness of my pulse around her; she doesn't know..."

"She was my butterscotch flavored dream until she dreamt of me Then, I was her target for a river of abuse and I took it just so I could be close to her And now I see her, randomly on a subway train ..."

sweetbrother

About sweetbrother

Full Bibliography
Continue Reading

"She wakes in still, wee hours in an ancient house ..."

Weekly Poetic Insight

Join our literary Sanctuary

Get the most inspiring lines, poetic analysis, and secret shayaris delivered to your inbox every Sunday.