Mother's Day
I have my Mom's hair
and her restless hands,
her webbed toes, and
her taste for wine, and
I age slow just like my
Mom. I go, go, go. And
I've got her achy hips
and her love of lists
and her need to be the
life of every party. I
like to make things
because she makes
things, and we both
like to make big plans.
If I have a flair, a kind
of panache, she did that.
If I tell stories, she told
them first. We are just
two motors running,
two minds planning
two moves ahead, two
hands ready to put
things into the world.
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