Posts Tagged ‘guilt’


(Written in 1992… I don’t usually post such “heavy” poems, and promise to post something cheerier next time.)


I didn’t cry


when my brother died.

Everyone around me did

but I was just in shock

that my wish

for more attention

from my parents

had come true.

My fleeting thoughts

had killed him

and put my mom

to bed with grief

and made my daddy drink.


They all went to the funeral,

I was too young, they said.

But I knew the real reason

and stayed at home

with guilt as my discomforter

and none to share the blame.


(c)  1992,  2012  Betty Hayes Albright


(My brother, whom I idolized, was eight when he died of polio in 1952. I was five.  From the onset of the disease to his death, only 48 hours passed. Through the years no one talked about it. Of course my parents were devastated, and they didn’t have “grief counseling” back then. It took 40 years for me to finally come to terms with my feelings.)

Read Full Post »

If she held a beacon

tightly to her breast

it would not shadow her,

nor would her hands be stained

were she to touch

the Holy Grail.

Her veins would never tangle

should she frolic

with the gods

nor would she burn to ashes

running naked

through the fire.

She’d not be struck with blindness

nor would her conscience bleed

were she to waken Eros

from a dream.


(c) 1995, 2011 Betty Hayes Albright

Read Full Post »

%d bloggers like this: