For Mom (Senior Citizen) On Her Birthday

That wild piggy-bank full of all things metal,

covered in acrylic paint and posture;

the one that sat in my room as a child,

the one that I always shook with glee:

I don’t know where you got that one,

but I remember it like a dead friend;

still fond of and wanting to shake it again,
trying to gauge what was inside of it all that time.

I sometimes miss that bank, terribly, in

trying times when I have to ask you for

money, but I know there’s a bank - one you have

fully stocked for many - whenever I need it myself:

And whenever I shake your heart,

there is no rattling, no part empty;

only a never-ending fullness of love,

for all things,

                        and I'm forever thankful.