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 Contemporary poetry by Dan Donlan

WOMB OF THE SAME MOTHER

By Dan Donlan, www.PoetryPoem.com/dandy1    Unlock all Features - Upgrade to Poetry Prime

Much as poetry becomes prose
As all poets knows
Prose is poetry that grows

"Womb of the Same Mother." A title of my
book my Grandson said frightened readers.
Began as a poem. It was only to say.
Why all the fighting in the world? We are all
brother's and sister's in reality.

In the book was a short poem that became prose.
My niece lives on an Island. Only way to get there is by Ferry.
On holidays the ferry lines are long. Sometimes a three boat wait.
Now this boy is smarter than the average--OK, it is yet to be
proven. I was not going to wait hours for a ferry. Hate to admit
this brainstorm was my idea. We would park on the land side. Ride
the ferry as passengers to the island. Later a ten minute walk down
the hill and onto the boat. Beat all that waiting in car lanes.Mother's day
there would be massive lines--naught! Most of the Mother's on dry land.
When we got to the dock we could have driven on first boat. But then it is
fun being a passenger on a ferry and a nice night for a walk up a short hill.
Much steeper going up than it was going down. "What a sunset!" Not working
on my bride who was struggling a little and hoping to see family who
parked on the island. A short walk up the hill Petticoat Dictator wearing
high heals. After all it was her Mom's day. I let her carry the packages.

Nice sunset lots of company it was getting dark. One by one finding theirs.
I was not the only one to think of this.  Where did we park the car?
Every parking spot was taken. Next in brilliance I said a photographic
memory this dude, "Someone stole our car!" Clearer thinking my less than
happy bride, "Maybe we parked in the next block. "No one stole our car.
They probably couldn't get the wreck started." Funny funny funny that one.
She was getting testy. So next block we went. Dogs at each gate growling.
What you have to know in this area of the city after dark is a
high crime area. We were starting to hear gunfire. Everyone
had guard dogs as we stumbled around on this clear moonlit night. Wife's
heal was bleeding. Still nice night we were holding hands somewhat romantic.
OK, I took the packages and tried to keep her steady. We would find it soon.
After all most of the cars were thinning out. That was the first hour went.
She dropped my hand when I told her I left my cellphone in the car. Woman--
they get angry over nothing. Then a dumb statement by her, "The only thing
saving your rear end is it is not raining and a lovely night. The ones who
were not home and answering doors were releasing guard dogs, and the lovely
moonlit night, It was a sudden downpour and five minutes later we were soaking
wet.

It was decided by mutual--she decided to backtrack to the original street.
By now there were fewer cars most every ones party over and they had all
gone home. The wind was picking up. She said,"Maybe we parked higher up the hill.
"I said in complete confidence and photographic memory, "I know we did not go up
the hill. If we did and I pushed this button the tail light would blink." "Blink
blink." After midnight we arrived home she no longer speaking to me. We did get over
the pneumonia and I promised next time to drive on the ferry.Some of this is made up.
 The part about the photographic memory./dandy







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