“What the heck is this?”
I heard her shout behind me, shattering
the silent glow of my nascent creative self.
She caught me just as I closed
the right-ventricle point of the heart
I drew with a purple crayon
on the wall in the family room.

“But, Mommy,” four-year old me said,
“don’t you think it’s pretty?”
She didn’t see the need to make the beige wall
not such a bore
anymore.
I guess because her life had become
beige, too.

After Mom marched me to my room,
I wiped my nose and
was glad I never completed
this artistic tribute.
She’ll be sorry, I thought.
I never got the chance
to write inside my heart,
in red this time,
“MoMMy.”

– Joseph Hesch

© 2016, poem, Joseph Hesch, All rights reserved

3 thoughts on “Hearts and Glowers

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