Wednesday, November 18, 2009


My life was blown apart, decimated
by a bullet that went through my sons
head and exploded into our lives.
The stench of burning flesh permeates
my senses when I go there, and sometimes
I have to go there, have to step where
he stepped and feel what he felt.
I deserve that much, he was my son
and I didn’t know. The explosion
rumbled through my life as it proliferated
into a mushroom cloud, nothing
was recognizable, nothing was retrievable.
I pick up the pieces still and lay them
about me, trying to make them fit into
something recognizable but they never
do. I know about explosions now.
I know about starting over and rebuilding
I know about life now.

Judy Roney
November 17, 2009


Mary said...

A powerful poem, Judy. And true for you. You do know about starting over and rebuilding. And life now. You have arisen from explosion and gone on with life.

Glenda Council Beall said...

I agree. A powerful poem with touching and real words like explosion, and rebuilding. That is what we do after a tragedy, we re-build our lives the best way we can.