Distractions of Regret

I picked up the ballpoint pen
with the intention to write
when the sounds of my son
mixed with the yeasty scent
of warm fresh-baked bread
and I had to place the pen to rest

Realizing he was no longer at rest
I abandoned the blue of the ballpoint pen
and went to reach for that warm, sweet bread
which at the time seemed not quite right
but I was swayed by that bready scent
instead of the warning sounds of my son

They got louder, those screams from my son
for a mother, sometimes, there is no rest
a moment of solace would be heaven-sent
for a moment just to pick up my pen
for a chance to spend a moment to write
and butter a sweet small piece of bread

Who wouldn’t want that divine fresh bread
that looks like it’s been baked by the sun
and with the butter its nothing but right
so much more unique than all of the rest
maybe I will put my son in the pen
for a moment to inhale that lovely scent

I look at the empty package my mother had sent
just before she died she sent that mix of bread
and now the baby’s in his pen
the one she never met, my son
before she was laid to rest
I never had the chance to write

and now things will never be right
while I’m surrounded by the motherly scent
and I know I will never get to rest
until I break apart her bread
that looks as if baked by the sun
piercing my heart like a tiny pin

I want to pick up the pen and write
about my son and his beautiful scent
just like the bread before my mother was laid to rest.

*Day 28 – PAD Challenge

The prompt was to write a sestina. This is the first time I have done this and it was very hard!

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