Posts Tagged ‘familiarity’




my daughter and I

recite all our favorite lines—

snapdragons no less beautiful

for blooming in the same place

every year

Read Full Post »

In the middle of the night
mom finds me still awake
and makes us tea. We stand

in her bright kitchen and cradle
our steaming cups. How
the hands like something to do,

even at this quiet hour.
We talk through the scent
of licorice root and chamomile,

we talk with no phones or children,
chores or appointments to interrupt.
She is older than I think she is.

When I’m not with her, I see her
as the mother of my childhood,
her hair not yet gray, her spine

not yet bent. She is lovelier
than I think she is. I don’t
think of my mother as beautiful,

only as my mom. But here,
in this wrinkle of early hours,
she radiates, even as her chin

begins to quiver, even as she bites
her lower lip to stay the tears,
even as her tears miss the steeping tea,

she is radiant. Even as she collapses
her shoulders and laments little things
she can no longer do, she glows,

and I see her not only as my mother,
more fragile than I like to think,
but as someone so full of light, someone

I so very much want to know.

Read Full Post »

%d bloggers like this: