Sunday, May 10, 2009

Mother's Love

It is her image of herself as better than us all
We mortal daughters, imperfect, malleable, left
Like a poorly smithed shoe leaving a limping foal
Always wanting more than she was willing to give
Sold cheaply for a reputation as a good horse trader
To the man in the white coat and hat with the PhD,
The country club, the Cabin in the private gated canyon
So exclusive were you that you would never let yourself in.

© 2009 Peggy Pendleton

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