Mother, by Julia McGee-Russell
You are a crocus in the snow
The mast holding up our mainsail
You taught me I could be
Both woman and
Strength
You are unapologetic
In showing me your tears
In catching my own
With your cupped hands.
I built my successes on your shoulders
My first home, mother,
You blow smoke at the wind
And tell me,
‘Darling,
Love yourself.’
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