Mother's Day

I wrote this poem a decade or so ago.  As today is Mother's Day, it seems appropriate to share it now.  It's interesting reading it again after all these years, especially now that I have my own daughter.  This poem is dedicated to my mother and grandmother, my lineage.

Lineage

Circa 1972 and my mother whose belly is round and full, heavy

with the flesh of my unborn body, wakes.

Midnight nears, I kick and squirm, struggling

against the natural course of time, unwilling

to leave her womb without a fight.

Circa 1977 and my bare feet stand on the cold

linoleum of my grandmother’s kitchen floor.  My mother

and grandmother stand close beside me.  One tablespoon

of vanilla.  Stir it in now.  My hand grips the metal handle, plunging

the spoon into the dough. I see my opportunity as they both turn away.

My finger dips into the raw butter, sugar and eggs, pulling

up just enough to taste.

Circa 1979 and my roller skates, permanently

affixed to my feet, move

in unison to the beat of Blondie, skidding

around my cul-de-sac for my first taste of freedom.

I spread my arms wide, absorbing the final rays of sunlight

before my mother calls me inside.

Circa 1987 and I am fighting -

Fighting to get out.

The pink bristles of my shaved head stand in revolt

against everyone and everything.  Patiently,

my mother waits for me to be born.

Circa 1988 and my hand yearns to feel her warm breath.

For a moment, I can feel it.  I see

her chest rise and fall.  Maybe

she’s only sleeping. 

A tear falls from my mother’s eye.

She’s gone.

I look back to my grandmother’s still body and see my mother –

my lineage.

My fists unclench and my arms spread wide,

to embrace the past.

Circa 1948 and my grandmother whose belly is round and full, heavy

with the flesh of my mother’s unborn body, wakes.

Midnight nears, my mother kicks and squirms, struggling

against the natural course of time, unwilling

to leave her womb without a fight.