I wrote this poem for Thou Art: The Beauty of Identity, a beautiful poetry chapbook produced by Studio Pause in Arlington, Virginia.
A Mother A mother, a maker of laundry and burned toast, late holiday cards and bad haircuts, secret wishes under glow-in-the-dark stars. A mother, a breaker of cups and small toys, promises and soft hearts-- theirs, because she is not all they want her to be, and hers, for the same reason. Comments are closed.
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Kim A. O'ConnellThoughts on writing, travel, people, and places. Categories
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