Mothers

Mothers

A Poem by Christine

I used to hate the way she chewed.
It made my stomach hurt 

(and by “stomach” I mean my psyche)

So long as I didn’t have to see her chew,
I liked when she brought us snacks.

Celery with peanut butter and green apples

Things that make children grow

(Resentful)

When I grew up, I cut apples like Nonno
By by cutting from your palm to your fingers to remove the core

(He wasn’t her dad)

I don’t remember how she cut the apples
But they don’t fall far from the tree

© 2014 Christine


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Added on March 29, 2014
Last Updated on March 30, 2014

Author

Christine
Christine

Boston, MA



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