Wild Yarn
Tuesday, October 12, 2004
  A Poem for All Mothers

Mothers Talk:

I hear the mothers talk

in my heart now.

It was there before, but not as loud.

Before it was a whisper,

white noise I could

work around.

It has grown more profound.

It stalks me when my children

aren't around and says

"get use to this- it's coming"

I get irritated at the dirt and the smells

at the quarrels (yeah, fights)

the civil disobediance

and smart mouth replies.

I bitch and I moan and sometimes I cry...

But I hear the mothers talk

more clear and more sound,

reminding me forever is an illusion,

that one day they won't be around.

So... I pick up the dirt and spray out the smells

I talk through the fights (okay, sometimes I YELL)

I encourage obediance

and kiss the smart mouths

I bitch and I moan and sometimes I cry

knowing my babies are learning to fly!



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