Anger looks like the cracked, golden smear of mustard on the wall after the kitchen table was flipped over in rage.

Anger looks like the shining butt of a pistol held in your mother’s hand as she tells your father to leave the house.

Anger looks like the hot anger radiating from your drunken father’s eyes because you were too slow to bring him a beer.

Anger looks like the tear streaked face of a child screaming at an unhearing God asking him, “Why?”

Anger looks like a broken strand of pearls ripped from your mother’s neck in a fit of furry by her loving husband.

Anger looks like a melted ice cream sundae discarded in the trash by him because “she doesn’t need it.”

Anger looks like the tear settling on your mother’s cheek because he’s locked you out of your house.

Anger sounds like the pop of can top, the spew from a bottle, the clink of ice in a glass.

Anger sounds like the words you say to your doctor as you ask to be checked because he was unfaithful.

Anger feels like the cold tile pressed to your cheek as you collapse on the floor from the news of the birth of their baby.

Anger feels like the knot in your stomach as you see him one last time in court.

Love….love looks like the smile of a child.

Love looks like a glass full of buttermilk.

Love looks like a four-legged friend cuddled close.

Love looks like the first dance of a couple starting their forever.

Love feels like his arm in yours as he walks his daughter down the aisle.

Love feels like the hug that was long delayed in childhood-finally received by the adult child.

Love feels like the warmth in your mother’s hand as you cling to her while she slips from this world.

Love looks like adding water to the canned chili so everyone has a share.

Love looks like a table full of food prepared by family on the holidays.

Love sounds like the giggle of a baby.

Copyright © Kelly Hobbs 2023