I See the Mother in Me
It catches me off guard in the gestures I see,
But there’s times I see the mother in me.
And I feel the stitch in the tapestry,
Those times I see the mother in me.
How many lives
Through the centuries?
All those mothers it took to create me.
I pick out a photo
From the dust and debris
Of the grandmother I never got to see.
Her hair pinned up tight with a clip
As mine later would be
Years later,
When my mother gave it to me.
My sister and I share the same laugh,
Everytime we snort with glee
And in it I hear our mother in we.
I cradle my niece, bounce her on my knee
She smiles the same as the mother in she.
Someday I’ll rock my daughter to sleep,
Beside the mothers that echo in me.
Although I am and she is yet to be
I’ll meet her with the same warmth that I feel
Those times I see the mother in me.
About the author: Maria Parsons resides in Tucson, Arizona. Her work has previously appeared in the anthology book Invisible Illness: Depression. She writes poetry and short fiction, and is passionate about art, social justice, and mental health. In her free time, she enjoys painting, weaving, cuddling with her dog and unashamedly harassing the people in her life with long lectures on film making.
