WHERE

How can you ask me where I’ve been,
When, Mother, Where were you?

You scorn, demanding where I’ve been,
I answer, Where were you?

Or plead, imploring where I’ve been,
I cry out, Where were you?

When once I’d babble where I’d been,
So childlike, Where were you?

You cared too little where I’d been,
And late. Oh where were you?

Now I’m condemned for where I’ve been.
Dear God, Mom, where were you?

Barbara Grace Lake

I grew up during the Great Depression and World War II, joined the WACs at age 18, later married, had 5 children, divorced, and worked in law offices for over 25 years, all the while writing a bit of poetry. I had a short but successful career writing articles for magazines and newspapers, but became tired of constantly trying to impress yet another editor. I've now gone back to my first love, poetry. And that, my friends, is mostly what you will find on my blog, "Poetry and Other Crimes." I sincerely hope you enjoy it.

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January 28, 2016

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2 thoughts on “WHERE”

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aodhan51
January 29, 2016 at 6:58 pm

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Wow, very powerful.

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Barbara Grace Lake
January 29, 2016 at 7:23 pm

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Oh, Aodhan. You have no idea how much your comments mean to me. I’ve long ago realized I do not write “pretty” poetry, so having someone like what I do write is doubly appreciated.

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