Motherhood
Small shadows of a small
reed in the crossbeams of two low lights,
between a lamp-post and the moon.
See the boys at play in today’s great sunshine,
one osmotic light, the giver of sight.
See the boys pervade the day with bravado,
with untamed cruelty and absolutely unfeigned pride.
See the boys hide from nothing, there’s no need,
and striding in the maleness of their fathers,
glean power from the taunting of the girls.
See their shoulders back as if to hold the world.
See their chests pressed forward as if to offer rest.
See, with taut backs they taunt back
We hate girls.
I have envy of your masculinity:
your self-assured posture and infinite potentials.
I had it once, too, in its feminine form, but as a mother must
I’ve outgrown my masculinity.
YOU ARE READING
The Back of My Mind (Poetry)
شِعرI like to write fiction, but I love to write poetry. Here is a collection of some of my favorite pieces.
