Sep 6, 2011

Trotting


It’s only when I saw her steering that mighty black mare
with her tiny 5 years old fingers firm on the rein
that I realized how astonishing life is
just yesterday she could hardly stand up
clutching the coffee table for support with an effort
her knuckles sweet dimples on her chubby hands.

Trotting deeper into the green fields
not turning to look if she could still see me
I squinted for my mind’s eye to measure
'this far' my thumb and index demonstrated
a mother’s mind minimizing the tragedy of distance
for a mother’s heart.