The Problem With Mothers

in voilk •  3 months ago

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    I am becoming my mother,
    like countless women before me became theirs,
    all withering skin
    wry remarks
    and unremembered things

    We both had our days as peach-laden boughs of the same tree.
    We walked with authority,
    first she
    then me,
    both heavy with our fruits
    heady with our responsibilities
    and lavish with our endless judgments

    We sprang up from our beds every morning
    like a step springs from the earth that bears it.
    We harnessed the downward force
    and bounded forward
    heedless of warnings

    Who had time to heed warnings?
    The duties were many,
    the moments too few

    Gravity both gave us our bounce
    and kept our charges still.
    What neither of us knew then
    we both know now,
    she dead, me following her closely:

    As much as we loved gravity,
    gravity couldn’t have cared less
    about us

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    I posted this nearly five years ago, even before the birth of Hive, on that other chain. @carolkean, who peruses old posts (who goes back four or more years?! @Carolkean, that's who!) sent it to me recently. I read the poem, not knowing I had written it. It was so good, I almost couldn't believe it was even mine.

    So here it is again, because I can do that in the Blockchain Poets community. I made a very few minor punctuation changes. Thank you for reading it. I appreciate and love you all.

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    The image is from my haphazard photo collection. That's my mother, looking straight at the camera

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