Mother’s May

I wonder about her everyday

The color of her hair

Warm yellow or red

An early lesson-

That we all have the freedom to choose:

Stay,

Or run away.

My mom left me

And I left mine

A spiraling circle,

A pattern as old as time.

She may have left pain

With what she left behind

But if I meet her one day

I will ask her my name

And tell her we all have a choice in our pain

I still found my own way.