Catherine-Who-Could-Be-Any-Daughter

A poem, a poet’s note and a poetry writing prompt

Photo by Arleen wiese on Unsplash

Woman returning to child,
whose bones creep
and poke under her skin
like unmanageable sticks,
whose joints visibly crack and shift
in archer’s bow legs
which no longer support her.

They had to bathe her at the end,
the wasted body driven past innocence
the dark patch of hair almost laughable,
her mother holding back her grief
as she helped to lift and dry the skeleton
which was once her daughter.

Caught between her needs
and her need to punish,
Catherine starved herself to death
despite cupboards full of food
while her mother fought on,
clutching at any hope, any cure
and finally forced to
just watch.