Poem #29: My Mother’s Birthday

My Mother’s Birthday

we met when I was born (imagine that)
our bond a branch on history’s great oak

for years you kept me warm and fed and blithe
my rock of hope, unfailing with your praise

you planted trees for Mol and me to climb
and built a garden where we both could dream

we never were afraid to be ourselves
so long as you kept howling at the moon

at times I’m awestruck by your joie de vivre
especially in times as grave as these

in tune with grasping ducks and needy dogs
you make all living creatures feel at peace

a model student, buried in your books
with time to spare for culinary art

though when we watch TV you fall asleep
and nitpick me when I am less than neat

no other mom could bring me half the joy
(though which of them would want me as her boy?)

on this, your birthday, let us celebrate
your past, your present, and what more remains

@NBF 5.15.200


With my Mother, 2007



Today is my mother’s birthday, so I’ve written her some blank verse couplets in celebration. I’m sure she might have preferred a plane ticket to Costa Rica, but a poem isn’t a terrible consolation prize.


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