Three loads of laundry - done

the house is mopped and cleaned

the dishes - put away

my kids are fed:

like every day

it must be Mother's Day,

again

 

9.V.2021

 

Day by day

and every moment I accept

and grab her hand

It's cold, it's soft, or maybe red

It tugs on me, she walks with me

And shows me wild, wild worlds.

The comfort and

the knowing she's always here

with me, for me

In sickness and in health

The hands of Titan Thoughts.

So tell me, how could I let go of that?

 

8.V.2021