Whole Damned Sky

As the jet slipped

through the layer of clouds

hiding the sun from the earth below,

my thoughts followed their regular pattern

and fell upon my mother

and her love of flying.

It was a love

that she indulged later in life,

(as so many of the best ones are)

two husbands behind her

and three children grown.

A love she chose when she needed to know

she could need less.

Or perhaps not less, but fewer.

Fewer men,

fewer children,

fewer people who needed her.

She needed to know who she was

when she wasn’t needed so much.

It was a love

that reminded her of things she forgot she owned:

Things like self-reliance,

like tenacity,

and grit…

her autonomy as a woman over forty.

And how she owned that view.

She just owned the whole damned sky.

Copyright 2019 – Laurie Marshall

This poem is being posted as part of the #100dayproject. Find out more here.