Graduations

A Mother’s Day poem for a grown daughter graduating college

There was a time

measured in the skipped beats

of a sonogram machine

when you were mine

completely to hold;

you ate my food,

shared my blood,

before the cord was cut

and like a yellow balloon

spiralling slowly, quickened

at times by turbulent air

rising, you flew.

There never will come a time,

when the beats run ragged and out

of time, when they no longer tattoo:

I love you.

This entry was posted in poetry and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to Graduations

  1. Pingback: Wednesday Festival | RevGalBlogPals

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s