Mother: A Poem

She is the meaning of strong.

My mold, my maker —

And yet she does not make me her.

Forged of her fire,

I wear her eyes filled with flowers and flame;

I stand on the opposite side of her coin.

We differ, are our own;

See same sights in unlike hues,

Our differing views,

But still — the stuff of our hearts is the same.

Advertisements
Mother: A Poem

One thought on “Mother: A Poem

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s