I am my mother

I am my mother.
Reminders making
sure I don’t forget
the simple but important tasks I
need to do, and yet
I swipe reminders clean away and
still, forget to do it.
That thing that someone
needs from me –
I now need to pursue it.

I am my mother.
Worrying about what people need.
Planning, admin, phone calls, mail
I wish that we’d agreed
that the
non-stop productivity should
be replaced by rest
but in my home, instead, we seem to
think that work is best.

I am my mother.
Optimistic, always looking ahead.
Not looking back, regretfully,
no – feeling hope, instead.
Noting what I’m grateful for
and showing appreciation,
but always keeping an
eye on adventure;
planning some kind of migration.

I am my mother.
Needing family and friends
that are my own.
A clear space to live in, time and
peace to read alone.
But the most important parallel,
I draw from her to me
is the need for love and comfort
But to also feel free.

I did a reading of this poem on Instagram – see/hear it out loud here.