My mother and I are like the hands of a clock –
she, the seconds that move my minute
and I, the minutes that move her hour.
I was born on her twenty-first birthday.
We are always walking hand in hand
between the astonished faces of
what’s to come and what has been.
This poem first appeared in North Shore Magazine (14 years ago!). Happy Mother’s Day to all the moms out there, especially mine!