Heart


Motherhood,
a fistful of wildflowers
pressed into quickly ungloved hands wiping goose poop from the tub.
Janice singing in the background.
Come on, Come on, Come on, Come on.
Take another piece;
I will serve it to you gladly here upon this plate.
My heart, yours already
but
mine also, here to guide alongside you as we
walk this path together
son.

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems


Share This Poem