by Jack G. Bowman
Light filters through, decades old, wood frame attic
spiders spin in silence, undisturbed,
on the flat side of a cherry wood, singer sewing machine
a cloak covers a multitude of memories,
grows old with dust and tiny mites concealed within:
the ancient mystery book was from a Father who was forgotten too soon,
the Bible, a keepsake, with dessert recipes inside,
newspaper hats, scrawled art works by children
long since incarcerated:
into jobs,
lives,
prisons of their own making
and the cloak itself
a nurturing act, by a Mother
who wants to hold on to who she wanted to be,
instead it covers
the darker sides
of what she was.
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ABOUT THE POET ~
Jack was born to a workin' class family in southwestern Ohio, but soon moved to southern California where he lives today. Changes in subculture as well as the 'spirit of the times' affected his writing and philosophy. He graduated from California State Polytechnic University in Pomona in 1986 with a Bachelor of Arts in Behavioral Science. He graduated from Pacific Oaks College in Pasadena with a Master of Arts in Marriage, Family and Child Counseling in 1997., His work in the mental health field since 1984, as well as his own bizarre life experiences, figure prominently in his poetry, art, songs and prose. Jack is a licensed Psychotherapist in the Los Angeles area., He has been a published poet since 1991.
Last updated November 11, 2011