true people true people

Happy Birthday, Mom!

In my poems, you’re the titan Atlas,

enduring, “holding the roof o’er our heads”;

I’ve seen you master your torrid feelings

but know that you cry at night in your bed;

the same way everyone does.

I hope you can find a wellspring of hope,

the way a tied rope finds itself more rope –

beauty and love and joy suddenly spring,

just because.