Mothers In Women
Long are their hours of labour!
Servants with no eye on the clock…
In this slow drowning aridity!
Still protesting; though no longer in tight holes!
Always hoping they’ll cope.
Subjects of mental and physical stings!
Stings from those they love, soothe and cherish.
”Sorry” is what I mean, for my own stings on her back
For a sudden shake from a sudden punch from Him.
I know she has this picture now on her floor,
Even though mine with them is still well fixed up.
True, they’re not at destination, but departure was effective!
I will push wherever I meet their van.
Mothers are mums because they are women!