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Mother’s Journey

Self Portrait in Charcoal

Self Portrait in Charcoal

In keeping memory

We pose

Display your face and mine


On a picture,

Smiles do not tell us

What we were.



But in truth,

We need not pose our

Faithful togetherness.

Seperated are we,

Arms from embrace.

Yet still joined by the growth

Of the other.


Regret we sent to its grave,

I the first to toss fresh dirt,

You the last to dig it up again.

In the forefront,

Suited brilliantly in armor,

Our blame.

Fighting for one side,

Then against it.

Alone though

On barren land,

Which is my youth –

Your early motherhood.

Tossed violently into the

Smoldering heat,

Taken in as we inhale for breath.

I can beg upon my knees to

Innocence, grasping

That which relieves my own

Responsibility, for not

Knowing you.

But standing as I am,

Without the years before, seeing

Clearly my relation to a


Whose spirit is not unlike my own.

I know who you are,

Face of battle tracing scars to me.

As women we meet again,

Succumbing to our desperate

Role of  mother.


Both unite as friends,

Fearless in embrace we join by

Our growth as individuals,

And filter through our wombs,

The likeness of our blood.

My Mom and I 2012

My Mom and I 2012

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