I am the cuddle,

the kiss where it's hurting,

the saint with the slightly bent crown —

I never frown.

I am the shuttle,

the yell on the sidelines,

the bank he will frequently use —

I'm short on clues.

I am the pariah,

the loony old lady,

the one who can't tame a computer —

sure wish I was cuter

'cuz now I'm the ogre,

the shrew that needs taming,

the zit on the night of the prom —

I am the Mom.

13 Ways of Looking at a Mother

Abigail Cain, Kealing Middle School 8th Grade

Inspired by Wallace Stevens’ Thirteen Ways of Looking at a

Blackbird”

I

A weary face

And tired smile.

Joyful eyes stare down

At the wonder

She has given birth to.

II

A moment of stillness and

Anticipation.

Then two chubby legs

Take their first step,

Then stumble into the waiting arms of

The mother,

As exuberant as the child.

III

Head hung,

Eyes averted,

While he listens to his mother’s sermon.

He glances outside, hopefully.

But he’s stuck inside—

A caged bird.

IV

In a house full of people,

She’s the only one moving.

The moon is high in the darkened sky

But still she works on.

V

Worn out

Bone-tired

Settles down and

Takes a well-deserved rest.

VI

Stiff with anger

Tired and snappish.

Voice raised

Annoyed at nothing.

VII

A voice full of excitement,

Impatient to tell the fascinated audience

The triumphs

And disappointments

Of the day.

The mother listens.

VIII

A cry for help—

The mother is there

IX

She sits and listens

To the torrent of words.

Putting the puzzle pieces together

So she can comfort,

And stop the waterfall of

Tears.

X

As a chick learns to fly,

So must a child.

The mother pushes them away

With tears in her eyes,

But a smile on her face,

Proud of what they have done.

XI

Relationships have changed.

Once child to mother,

Now friend to friend.

XII

A mother—

A self-proclaimed wise woman.

Offering never-ending suggestions

An endless barrage of advice.

XIII

A weary face

And tired smile.

The daughter’s joyful eyes stare down

At the wonder

She has given birth to.

While the mother stands by her,

Remembering.

-Abigail Cain