Poetry + Mothers & Daughters
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Daughter of Daughters
I woke up this morning to see my mother’s feet
attached to my ankles and wondered
what are they doing here, so far away from home
then I remembered that she walked with me,
walked in my shoes as I walked she mashed on the accelerator of the truck that carried me here, she danced with me as I danced a cheerful step
in the bath I noticed my grandmothers hands attached to my wrists and thought, how did they get there?
What are they doing here so far from home?
I haven’t seen them in years, I thought I’d misplaced them, then
I realized that she still holds me by the hand
having never let go
taking me from adventure to adventure
she snap peas with me and cleans collards with me
she guides my hand to try something new
as nimbly as before the arthritis set in and
the crochet blankets took a little longer to finish
I was soothed by a voice that was not mine
felt as it kept time
with the movements of my lips and wondered
Who is that speaking? Then I…
