The forest clasps him to her breast
With cold embrace of thorn
To slash his skin with scorn;
Her ivy bracelet of waxen pearl
Blisters deep his longing soul;
She sighs and cracks in arthritic pain
A requiem eternal to his shame.
Bryan D. Cook April 2011
Context for His Mother's Hands
Written as homework for a workshop with slam poet Ian Keteku, this poem reflects the feelings of somebody with a lack of maternal nurturing.It is not autobiographical as my mother,Jean Patricia Cook (nee Baker) was always nurturing and understanding. The forest is both allegorical and, sometimes for the me, real.