“Mother,” New Era, Aug. 1996, 22
Mother
If I could pull from you
the child you were,
I would rock her gently in my arms,
and hold her hand
until it stops shaking.
I would sing soporific lullabies,
leave the light on
all night,
and whisper, “I love you,”
before I close the door.
She would not sleep
in a dark corner that reeks of booze
and sweat, or wince
at every sound.
I would send her to school
in a brand-new dress
and shiny Mary-Janes,
so her classmates wouldn’t snicker
or exclude her from their games
of hopscotch and tag.
She wouldn’t have to wear
long-sleeved sweaters, in the summer,
to hide the bruises from home.
I would make sure
she was happy and knew love;
then I would lay her in your arms,
Mother,
and we would watch her sleep
peacefully.
Inspired Majesty by Joseph A. Ehat
Book of Mormon Chessboard by Lendy C. Perez
Deborah by Lendy C. Perez
Aztec Version of a Great Nation by Lendy Perez