my mother bruises easily cobblestones in San Miguel felled her i was there but too far to catch her to hold her elbow knee knotted hand swollen an inflated leathery latex glove her glasses hid her color erupted eye wine dark echo dimmed & darkened from the original fluorescent burst of the original fall the first day yellow green rimmed the point of contact right hand outer knee wrapped & clothed unseen her eye alone bruised to the bone reveals & reminds me to watch my step & hers
PS She’s fine. Really. I saw her just the other day. This fall happened twenty years ago.
middleagedmiddlechild. 
8 responses to “after the fall.”
Vivid and visceral description of your mom’s fall. I also appreciate the Rothko you use as accompaniment. Glad healing is history. Continue to watch your step, and hers.
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Oh my goodness, thanks for the continued encouragement! The Rothko came to me way late–I almost posted it with some … well, with something that wouldn’t have been nearly as good : )
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I loved the way you wrote this poem. It has me thinking of many things far beyond an actual fall. We are all so fragile and they watch our steps and then we watch theirs.
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I appreciate you–this month of writing has been a huge exercise in seeing beyond the skindeep reality (in this case, literally) : )
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I am so glad to learn she is ok and the post was a memory of admittedly a terrible fall!
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It’s interesting how a single image, a single memory shows only a single side — in this case, I worried that she’d come off as some frail old lady, which she *absolutely* is not. I guess we’ve all got stories of ourselves that are not ourONLYselves, right?
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So well written… it makes me want to write a poem. Well done!
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This is so powerful. I love how you chose to write that the street “felled” her, instead of saying “she fell”–such an interesting choice. I also love these lines: “i was there/but too far/to catch her/to hold her elbow” and the ending, “reminds /me to /watch my step/& hers”. My mom is getting older, and your poem makes me think of what is possible and impossible to catch. Thanks for the ps–I was happy to know she’s okay!
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