The simple act of folding towels
You even pressed the iron on them
You hummed
It may not seem like much, but I noticed
I didn't know that I noticed, but
The quiet, safe place you created for me
Made me who I am
Just a kitchen table
Even though I never learned to cook,
I learned the sweetness of just hanging out
With the quiet presence of a mother's love
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem