Look Mom!

A mother’s world… hand built,
Brick by coddled brick
Up to the ninth floor, from where each morning
Descends a rambunctious ten year old,
Tumbles into a heap in freezing cold.

Her eyes, quaking searchlights in ruins,
Scan compulsively for a vanished phone.
Why such addiction now to possession?
Or did yesterday’s selfie survive
What her world couldn’t?

– Bolbul

Welcome!