My mother elusive in the way
of mothers we spend so many years
with them we guess who they
are who they were before we
were born before they became our
mothers and then, who they
became when we,
inextricably connected, are left
guessing. What I would say now
years after my mother died
years after I had the chance to ask her questions
she didn’t want to answer although I’d ask and she
would go through the motions my mother
vibrant chain smoker big gold hoops in her pierced ears
unlike any of the other mothers
at the Beth Israel Synagogue Center
my mother, keeper of secrets, wearer
of orange toreador pants, wife of Mike Cohen,
mother of two, bridge player, reader of book
after book after book, my mother, a tap dancer,
restless, happy when Oscar Levant came
on Jack Paar, my mother, mysterious
until the end, we went out to dinner many
mother’s days and she always ordered shrimp cocktail
and said they were a side benefit to being a mother.
Loved the orange toreador pants!
ME TOO XXXX
intriguing. like my mother…..
happy mother’s day, dear esther!!!
hugs!
Spot on, my friend!
happy mother’s day SUE love
Sarah
Wearer of black tights
And bearer of low voice
And beautiful smile
Didn’t know she tap danced
So do I
yes yes yes
lovely!
great to see him.
thanks judy!!!
Another wonderful poem!!
Happy Mother’s Day
Love,
Louis
Thanks LOUis
Crazy about your blog
I hope we can actually meet one day
love
A delight, as your poems always are.