My Mother

by Anon

Happy, smiling down at me.
Then sometimes, she's frowning.
It's as if she's there sometimes,
Watching over me like a hawk.
When I look at her my stomach has a sharp pain in it
and my eyes begin to water.
I don't know if it's for her
or for me,
but for someone.
Sometimes, I wish she were there
but she's not and never will be.
But then maybe she is there,
maybe she's in my heart.

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About the author: A previous poem by Anon appears in our Spring 1998 issue.


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© Copyright 1998 by Anon