Poem for Kirsten

~Why does a mother need a daughter?
Heart's needle, hostage to fortune,
freedom's end.
~Anne Stevenson

Feel free to stay where you are.
I will come to you.
And be amazed at my good fortune
once I do.
Where I will take you out of your nakedness
and into my arms.
Where I will use my heart and knowledge
as a barrier against all things coming to get you
for as long as I can.
Until your own wisdom outstrips mine
because it will.
It seems I woke up one morning
and there you were,
tiny and tender as a fist of daisies, the doctor
handed you to me.
Take her, his expression told me, she's yours.
You were never mine.
Thirteen years later and you are even less of mine.
Kirsten, where does the time go?
Swell girl, I watch you happily
move through this careless world as if it
were a room full of brand new clothes,
fingering the fabrics saying yes or no.
You put on a bright yellow coat and off you go.
I run after calling, knot your buttons!
Don't forget your hat and gloves,
known only in your world and in your life,
and by the people you choose to spend time with,
as, just my mother. I am not hers, you could tell them,
but she is mine, and oh by God girl, you would be right.

Poetry by Lisa Zaran
Read 1040 times
Written on 2005-12-13 at 23:16

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otteri selvakumar
A good poem...