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RD Larson

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Member Since: Aug, 2000


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The Bread of Life
by RD Larson
Sunday, August 17, 2003
Not rated by the Author.
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           >> View all 8

2005 RDLarson

The Bread of Life


RD Larson

I follow her. I am talking; she doesn't listen.

She tells me she is busy; I tell her I have been hurt. She looks,

But I can see in her eyes, that

Such little blood is unimportant, I do know that.

I ask her if I can help; she shakes her head.

"No, Baby, it is better if I do this myself."

I sit in a chair, turning face cards down; she is absent, if


I watch her from beneath my eyelashes; she is more


Than any movie star because she is so alive.

Turning here, bending and stretching, she is

Graceful and quick,

Not a wasted movement.

I watch her began to knead the bread.

It speaks of creation to me.

I am in awe as the dough becomes smoother, firmer.

And, somehow, softer.

I turn over a Jack of Hearts

As he walks through the door.

He is taller than I; older and

More loved in everyway.

No wonder. He is perfection,

Born of her dream and in her image.

I watch in absolute silence

As, bread forgotten, she gathers him

Into her mother-warmth.

The bread loses its shape;

It falls over on its own self.

I see it is hardly bread-to-be

Now, that Mother has her son.

The Jack of Hearts has a drop

Of my blood curling on it.

I shrink into my inner soul;

The terror always there,

Remains forever.


2005 RDLarson


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Reviewed by Judy Lloyd (Reader) 2/21/2005
A very sad write and I am glad that I found you on this page.
Reviewed by Carmen Ruggero 9/4/2003
Such a sad poem. So well expressed. I like what you did with the card game and the bread falling as her own feelings fell in with pain. Well done, RD.

Reviewed by Sandie Angel 8/17/2003
Very nice. Your feeling of loss is so well-expressed. I enjoyed this.

May Lu a.k.a. Sandie Angel :o)
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