Her stoic mother kissed her,
the day the man took her away,
Smolensk to Moscow, a measure of tears
that never flowed for the Motherland–
there is duty, and there is love–she remembered
her stoic mother kissed her–
not the first time, but definitely the last,
while the embarrassed sun sulked behind the clouds
the day the man took her away
to that gated place. She learned to dissemble–and excelled–
yet inside a child remained, hurting–
Smolensk to Moscow, a measure of tears.
A wisp of a story in a cascade poem for Jane Dougherty’s prompt, using the above image, Moscow Metro by Michael E. Arth, as inspiration. I picked Smolensk because that’s where the character Elizabeth Jennings came from on the show, The Americans.
The names of places in Russia always give me cold chills. The word choice too, stoic, sullen, gated. Poor kid.
Yes, she resigned to her fate to me.
The subject is heartbreaking.
How you delivered it, is mesmerising.
Thank you very much!
You nailed this one, Merril. Nicely done.
Thank you, Jill!
The things we do to our children…(K)
So very, hauntingly, poignant
Thank you very much, Derrick.
The angst on the face of this child reminds me of Esty, a girl who moves (voluntarily) from Brooklyn to Berlin in the TV series, Unorthodox. In both cases, a hurting girl, haunting like your poem today.
Thank you, Marian.
I can tell that show really made an impression on you!