Driving down the 401
your hands on the wheel
me, anticipating
The way the sun would glint
catch the pink
the blue
the way they rose up
My glass castles
You never told me they were office buildings.
Instead, you said
"Tell me about them"
We built stories
...knights & dragons
pegasus & unicorns...
driving through
Tkaronto
Now I sit beside you
laughing
I want to remember the laughing.
The last thing we'll do
is (hold hands)
and I'll sing your favourite songs
Me, in a chair
shaking
scared
Your hands on my shoulders
Your voice, calm
the teacher
wanted me gone
the school
wanted me gone
You didn't believe their lies.
Instead, you looked them in the eye
and said
"No"
Out on the sidewalk
You swore...
(You never swore like that before!)
"Never let them see you angry"
"They love to see us angry"
Hunched over
aching
I stand up
You reach over the rails
and rub my back
"Are you alright"
You ask
Shouldn't I be asking you that?
Sledding
You, holding me tight
us taking flight
Stomachs in our throats
snow in the face
screaming
joy
We should have bailed.
Instead, we crashed
Your leg tangled in the chain link fence
I loosened boot laces
(Small hands, slender fingers)
I saved you that day
I'm sitting here
staring, waiting
Where are you?
I play with plastic cups
and pink hospital swabs
stacking
When they roll you in
they roll their eyes
(See?)
I made you a castle.
Instead, you laugh
"What kind of mother raised you"
Good question.
Melissa Powless Day, "Refraction," from A Bow Forged from Ash. Palimpsest Press, 2025. Reprinted with permission from the publisher.