Redwing Poem by Belle Wassermeister

I saw a red-winged blackbird yesterday,
something I used to see
almost every day
back when I was a kid.

It triggered a memory,
a recollection of simpler times,
safer times.

I saw a dark-haired woman
hanging clothes on a line,
and singing.

'Oh, the moon shines tonight
on pretty Red Wing,
the breezes sighing,
the night birds crying...'

My eyes filled with tears
as I saw that same woman
lying in a hospital bed
and somehow knowing
that she would never
sing again.

Yet my heart filled with love
as I remembered how
she would read to me
when I was very small.

She instilled within me
the love of books
and the printed word
and I could read and write
before I ever went to school.

The years have been long
since I saw her face
but a day does not go by
when I do not feel her influence.
Thank you, Mother.