Mother’s Day

MomMy mother requested a poem for Mother’s Day. It is shared here with her kind permission.

Anchors

I used to get anchors
stuck in my eye
when I was a boy
playing in the woods.

It wasn’t until I was older
that I realized I misheard
my mother calling them “winkers”.

I imagined a tiny black snowflake,
shaped like Popeye’s tattoos,
digging into my bloodshot whites.

I would run inside,
crying like a cyclops
for his mommy.
She would lift
me onto the bright
bathroom counter,
pry my eye open
while I squirmed,
twist toilet paper
into a magic wand
and gently lift away
the offending particle.

She would lean in close
so I could only see
her furrowed brow,
the tip of her tongue
just visible between her lips
as she concentrated
on the delicate operation.

I probably never even thanked
her, despite returning to the world
unblind.

 

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2 Responses to Mother’s Day

  1. This is very sweet! How thoughtful!

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