“This poem is dedicated to
My wife, Melissa,
My mother, Lorraine,
My stepmother, Zona,
And every mother out there.
Happy Mother’s Day!”
If you ever wondered what she sees,
A mother, paused with muscles sore,
Looking far away. Then know this -
A mother’s eye sees more.
She sees the kick, soft and silent,
Long ago in the womb;
A crib, then a bib,
The final diaper, finally entombed.
She sees the first day of school
As if it were today;
A baseball glove, a favorite doll,
Long ago put away.
She sees the first date
And a prom dress;
Shiny car keys, a dented fender,
Wounded pride to caress.
She sees years pass, too fast,
A final goodbye at the door;
A call from college, needs money,
Phone calls no more.
She sees a missing bed,
A sleeping head once kissed;
A father’s study now, tidy,
Stinky socks are missed.
She sees a bride
And a groom hand in hand;
A honeymoon, the bedroom,
Happy news so grand.
Then a blink and back to work
But you’ll understand her sigh.
Because she’s always seen it all -
Through her mother’s eye.
