She remembers nightmares,
some imagined, some real,
the bullies who splattered her
with tomatoes and abuse
and the dark night
when her father stormed
through the house,
and the black cloud
that hovered for years
over her rickety attic
There were glimpses of radiance
that she could tangibly access,
like the yearbook photo
with her profile awash in light
through her English teacher's lens;
he had read her lackluster poems
to the 8th grade class,
one about a funeral for a squirrel;
death was a prominent theme
even as she stepped off the curb
She never saw what was coming,
her moving away from small town minds,
her inspiring daughter's convocations,
her visiting her in divergent homes
her encouraging circle of friends,
her embracing marriage, finally,
her writing with a polished professor,
her reciting her published words,
her learning from experience,
her looking directly into the light
---
September 28, 2017
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