By Angela Jackson
Before the doctor told me
I could not leave her,
Not even for fifteen minutes,
Twice a week
I would …
I could not leave her,
Not even for fifteen minutes,
Twice a week
I would …
Explore Poems: Mother's Day
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- By Lewis MacAdamsJust to say that today
the female power is revealed
by the blue sky flapping
in the laundry
on the roof… - By Sandra DollerI thought a tree dying was a sign of pestilence or terror or you’d done something wrong in your life…
- By Alyse KnorrBetween us bobs the baby, solemn in her infant wet suit.
The pool is the only place where
screaming … - By Galway KinnellFor I can snore like a bullhorn
or play loud music
or sit up talking with any reasonably sober Irishman… - By Carolyn KizerMy mother—preferring the strange to the tame:
Dove-note, bone marrow, deer dung,
Frog’s belly distended… - By Bruce LanskyOn Mother's Day it isn't smart
To give your mom a broken heart.
So here are thing you shouldn't say… - By Carolyn KizerAs I wandered on the beach
I saw the heron standing
Sunk in the tattered wings
He wore as a hunchback… - By Maya AngelouShe came home running
back to the mothering blackness
deep in the smothering blackness
white tears … - By Judith KrollOf course they are empty shells, without hope of animation.
Of course they are artifacts.
Even if my… - By Marie PonsotArchaic, his gestures
hieratic, just like Caesar or Sappho
or Mary’s Jesus or Ann’s Mary or Jane
Austen… - By Julia KasdorfI learned from my mother how to love
the living, to have plenty of vases on hand
in case you have to… - By Robert Louis StevensonAs from the house your mother sees
You playing round the garden trees,
So you may see, if you will look… - By J. Lorraine BrownBelieve it or not,
the old woman said,
and I tried to picture it:
a girl,
the polished white ribs of… - By James Whitcomb RileyGranny’s come to our house,
And ho! my lawzy-daisy!
All the childern round the place
Is ist a-runnin… - By Cathy SongThe mornings are his,
blue and white
like the tablecloth at breakfast.
He’s happy in the house,
a sweep… - By Carolyn KizerONE
From Sappho to myself, consider the fate of women.
How unwomanly to discuss it! Like a noose or… - By Wendell BerryI was your rebellious son,
do you remember? Sometimes
I wonder if you do remember,
so complete has your… - By Jane KenyonSearching for pillowcases trimmed
with lace that my mother-in-law
once made, I open the chest of drawers… - By Heather McHughI.
Daily, the kindergarteners
passed my porch. I loved
their likeness and variety,
their selves …