or, "Happy Mothers' Day"
May 12, 2001
I'm not a poet. I wrote several volumes of bad poetry in highschool, and a couple of poems in college that aren't so terrible. But it is not my forte. Still, it is Mothers' Day on the 13th, and I figure I owe my Ma something beside the cheesecake I sent her from "the Cheesecake Factory." So, here goes:
When I said you were like Lila
I didn't mean it, and it haunts me.
I was young, and reckless
with your heart,
and I still can see the tears well in your eyes.
As I grew, we grew apart, and
And, as I began to know myself, I began
to know you, and to understand.
And, now, when you smile, I smile, and
when you cry.
I try to comfort and calm,
and I cry a little, too.