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My Mother is Forty-Eight Years Old MAG
August 22, 2022
Forty-eight is for heroines
Gentle, gallant, and humble
The women who do not sing
But sway to the kitchen rumble.
Always pacing, straightening crowns
Against tears and creeping ruin —
Vines stretching from the mouths
Of phone calls in the evening.
Forty-eight is for heroines
Fearless facing failings
None of which were theirs to bear
In the first place.
Women turning glass hearts molten
When scales tip, swiftly helpless,
Are heroines with futures golden
On shining horses, selfless.
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This article has 2 comments.
LiteraryMe PLATINUM said...
on Aug. 22 2022 at 9:49 am
I love this! Truly meaningful--you can really feel it
Dedicated to my mom.