I have
never known another
mother,
woman or man,
who has the
strong glow
of that who
I call my mother.
She keeps
the struggle simple:
She
contains it; supplants it with
hope; she
makes sure that she
is always
around those she loves.
(Even when
that is a struggle,
in and of
itself, if only because.)
I have
never known my mother
until I was
around ten, and then
I
understood. Now, many years
later, I
understand better than before.
She is the
woman I looked up to,
as a child,
and even more-so as an
adult, and
am glad to have had
her, in her
own hand,
always holding.
always holding.
