FtB Mothers Day Anthology: One Anxious Mother


One Anxious Mother

One,
two,
three in the morning.
My heavy responsibility
barely weighs thirty pounds.
A resilient little girl
in pink leggings and dirt,
one little life
so fragile.
My stomach drops —
I can’t always protect her.
That sinking feeling
digs deeper in the middle of the night.
Nightmares of how I can lose her
on replay —
She’s drowning
and I can’t reach her.
She falls
and I’m too far away.
My worries
are a constant undercurrent.
There’s no escape.
She’s sleeping safe and sound —
I should be, too.

Comments

  1. Katydid says

    I particularly love this poem of yours! Are you living in my head? I had these thoughts as a young mother. Well, if I’m being honest, I’ve had these thoughts as the mother of young adults. Your kids are always your kids, it seems…

    The way you ended this is a nice counterpoint to the frantic worry.

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