Two Words: Slice of Life 30/31 #sol16

slice of life

Bad news

I knew

He didn’t

Dr’s recommendation

Two words

No contact

Concussion risk

It means

No football

He’s done

He hears

Dream destroyed

He hears

Life over

To me

Thin dream

Thinking small

To him

The world

His future

Fame, fortune

Making it

Being somebody

Now quiet

So quiet

Too quiet

No words

For hours

Two hours

Now five

And counting

Thick silence

Tense silence

I brace

For explosion

For running

Fight flight

Old friends

Only silence

No anger

No blame

Only this

His face

Empty. Still.

His eyes

Vacant. Cold.

I wait

I know

This waiting

I know

This silence

I wonder

How long

I remember

One week

Without words

Endless week

I break

Always do

Two words

I’m sorry

Two words

Shut up!

Don’t even!

Go away!

For now

He’s home

Nothing’s broken

Nobody hurt

I wait

I’m silent

I know

This waiting.

Posted

March 30, 2016

slice of life

Elisabeth Ellington

Tags:

#sol16, March slice challenge, parenting, slice of life

Comments

18 responses to “Two Words: Slice of Life 30/31 #sol16”

elsie

March 30, 2016

It only takes a few words to tell this heartbreak and disappointment for your son and your heartbreak to watch him struggle through this period. So hard.

Reply
maribethbatcho

March 30, 2016

Excellent piece. Each line packed with emotion. I felt every pair of the pain.

Reply
Lisa R

March 30, 2016

Great poem. I think the 2 word lines really condense it down to the essentials.

Reply
sallydonnelly11

March 30, 2016

I am amazed of all you conveyed, two words at a time.
Powerful writing!!

Reply
margaretsmn

March 30, 2016

This poem
two words
pack punch
leave me
in sadness
I sense
your love
his love
this relationship
keeps going
keeps growing

Reply
Glenda Funk

March 30, 2016

One brain
One concussion
Damage done
Lasts forever

Reply
Linda Baie

March 30, 2016

And my words are you showed it in all its terseness, no doubt the deep hurt for his dreams gone, and your hurt for your son, too. What a world we live in when so many young boys want to be an NFL star, and will be disappointed because they didn’t, or couldn’t, make it. Hugs for this time, Elisabeth.

Reply
Kathleen Neagle Sokolowski

March 31, 2016

Absolutely powerful. I feel like each slice you write is another layer being peeled away. Your son has come so far with your love.

Reply
djvichos

March 31, 2016

I really like the build up in this poem and the repeated words:
Now quiet
So quiet
Too quiet
No words
For hours
Two hours
I could only think mother’s heartbeat in all that silence and waiting.

Reply
Sonja Schulz

March 31, 2016

heartbreaking. telling this in 2-word increments helps me to feel it in all its raw pain. powerful stuff here.

Reply
carriegelson

March 31, 2016

Two words at a time and you have told us so much. this is one of my all time favourites from you

Reply
Wilcox Carol

March 31, 2016

I am so, so sorry. This has been my guy, for the last 18 months. My hear breaks for both of them.

Reply
SOL16: #31 Bold | Reflections on the Teche

March 31, 2016

[…] I draw inspiration from other brave writers like Elisabeth Ellington. She wrote a two word poem about her son yesterday. Read the post here. […]

Reply
Akilah

March 31, 2016

Oh, that’s heartbreaking. I know he’s not ready now, but one day (probably during unschooling?), he can explore careers that still let him be a part of football.

Reply
Dalila Eckstein

March 31, 2016

Your poem packs so much in this sparse format. I am impressed by your careful selection of words in order to create a mood and communicate events. So much said with so few words. Beautiful. You have left me both awed and sad.

Reply
Kellee from Unleashing Readers (@kelleemoye)

April 1, 2016

I am feeling for you and him so much. So heartbreaking. Beautifully written.

Reply
cvarsalona

April 1, 2016

I know
this waiting
painful part
of life
too hard
to bear
another day.

Thanks for being the modeler of this form of poetry. Two words pack a punch. I hope all evens out but losing your dream is difficult to understand in the adolescent years.

Reply
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April 4, 2016

[…] slice about my son learning he can’t play football […]

Reply