Tuesday, June 14, 2011

Day 299, the mother

I am
And mom
To be so
Ever weary
Of its hard
To swallow facts
Like stretch marks
Dark circles
Extra pounds

Harder to swallow
All of this vulnerability
Watching your heart
Piggy back ride atop
Two little boys
Who arent careful at all

But I get to stare
At their adolescent souls
A novice potter whose
Instructor allows me to feel
The silk and slide of wet clay
Let's me feel the pride of this
Vessels emerging form

I am mother most when
I know this clay
Must be fired
That the kiln will come
That there are able hands
To work this wheel
And they are not mine

Mine are only to feel the silk and slide
Mine are only there to to stare with pride

Hands that give the clay to him
Who knows the shape before he begins

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