Learned Motherhood
by MFrostDelaney

One must have a mind of winter – cold
to shun her child when words and steps appear.

Before, her child was captive in a crib
where she could pick it up and put it back,
control its every move, what she must do
and not get trapped by feelings in her heart.

This was her mother’s lesson from the start,
ingrained in her when she could only coo,
an infant who learned what the arms could lack –
some caring. Now she is her mother’s rib:
feeding, bathing, mouthing words like Dear
and going through the motions: hug and hold.

Can mother’s moves be altered, bring some sun
so summer’s warmth arrives, the past be done?



 

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