How small she looks in the airportwith a large bag at her sidestanding straight, white hair.She always wears dark colors,practical.
What is this thrum in the bellywhen I see her from far, as ifthe belly remembers.She is looking at her phone.I stop. This is my Mother.
I look like her, in some ways,and once she was young.She has a rubber case on herphone, in case it is dropped.Practical.
I know she left her houseclean, it’s important to comehome to a nice place, she says.This is not practical this ispart of the beauty of life,and coming home alone to mess,is even more depressing.
But I like my own bed best,she says, and the quiet in mornings,when I scatter seed for the birds,the quiet in evenings, not at all.That’s when you should call.
Photo by Jenna Christina on Unsplash