Momma

a dream and memories of my mother, and the times we spent together when she didn't seem concerned with her appearance

My dreams show me a woman

an amalgam of many faces

though I haven’t seen it in years

I know what home looks like

When the facade falls, and there is only my mother,

without the royal hues and careful curation

she is the Saturday mornings we’d make 

pancakes in our pajamas while she taught me chemistry

daily walks to the library and reading

together on the couch

long summer hours pulling weeds in the garden

and deadheading the flowers

Author's Note

I am open to any and all constructive critique!

Reviews

[I am Jade]

what a lovely poem so nice to read.
Thankyou :)