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A Mother's Collection: Tissues, Bones, and Blood (first)
Her First born that seems so long ago:
Peering into my mind...
Look at what I see!
Life-form swimming in sap,
nourished by condemnation and shame.
A little unnamed baby
laying quietly in arms,
What to do with this little stanger?
None other to name you but me and
Desperately needing on the job training!
Days, weeks, and months
Were the only teachers.
Son, step into the now, a half century
Oh my! How time flies! Oftentimes,
it’s when a son becomes a man that a mother
Realizes the many ways he touches her heart.
As a young man you were filled with so many dream.
But more than that you had hopes and aspirations,
Facing them on your own terms, you attained them.
Son, you earned them!
On this special day, I want you to know
you don't have to earn my love.
My tissues, bones, and blood, I'm
grateful to you for being a wondertul
son, husband, father, and brother.
Sorry! No do-over-for the first one…yet
without my making mistakes,
you may not have made anything.
Happy Birthday, son!
February 9,2006
poem
by
Almedia Knight Oliver
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