by Lisa Zaran
~for kiah and kirsten
That's how things are for mothers.
When they are alone, when their sons
and daughters have moved beyond
the decades of her touch, braided hair
and braces, lunch sacks and her ever-
present shadow, inseparable from their
own. Everywhere they go, only a mother
must learn to weave her way back home
and stay put and not interfere.
And yet everything is perfect because
doesn't just a mother feel by chance
and know by heart the half-movement
of every inconceivable thought her child
has? And so she does. And often
when she feels sad and perhaps a bit lonely
all she has to do is look at her own hands,
mark her own reflection and smile knowing
how those beautiful children have grown,
became themselves, and though the habits
of touch have waned, the serenity of love remains.
Last updated October 30, 2012