Mothers and Daughters
Desperate maneuvers to
scoop up her innocence,
to cup her childhood in my hands
and rub it like frozen earth
over my face,
holy water in desert cave.
I feel its drops on my lips.
I let the melt run down my chin.
If only the moment of her unconditional love
burned forever in my heart and
the power of painted laughter
wrapped around me, wisteria clinging
to a silver poplar.
She slips through my hands
each time I try to contain her,
and spills onto wide plank pine boards
mixing with day old stains.
Unfolding of life reaches for every branch
of every tree
and lustily eclipses even the rafters
of the sky. I can do nothing
but watch her fingers clenched like fiddleheads
waiting to unfurl.
6 thoughts on "Mothers and Daughters"
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“Like fiddleheads waiting to unfurl” Beautiful.
Thank you.
My daughter is almost two, and I felt every line of this. Beautifully captured feeling, and I love the final fiddlehead metaphor. Just lovely.
Thank you. It warmed my heart that the poem touched you.
This is so sweet and heartbreaking at the same time! I love how you just immerse yourself in your poems. What a powerful feeling most mothers can identify with!!
Thank you so much.