Dinnertime. ~Rayvenne Lyons


A mother of two sons.

At least now.

The cry brought not two.

But three.

The third summoned

Found no place for herself

And wondered why.

She merely stood.

Dinnertime prayers commence

Shock and confusion

Emotions felt

For she heard her name in prayer.

For her this would not be abnormal

If listed under

"Dear Lord, bless this, our family."

Instead she looked

Out the clear pane

Between her and the world she knew before

And saw not only the swing

Where she sat as a child

And grew into the teenager

That she thought still existed

But a new appearance.

A heart shaped stone

A granite stone

Shivering in the snowy surroundings

She pressed to the glass

But felt no pressure

And thought naught of it

Slow approach

And finally reached

The marbleized granite fear

Sure enough

There engraved

Her very existence

Freezing there beneath

Her swing

Her childhood

The one place she once found comfort

Was placed a mourning, crying stone.

Mortified she turned

Facing the cold unfelt glass

That felt her invisible touch moments before.

She was gone.

She knew now what she was

And what she was not to be.

A transparent tear fell

Hit the stone

And disappeared into a mist

As fast as it had come.

They were healing.

Moving on.

And now she knew she would be left behind.

And she let go.