by Shilo Niehorster

Mother’s Day,
The WarHeads candy of Hallmark holidays
In my life,
Sour, the sweet when I
Finally get passed my own
Bitter views of things.
I hang your heavy weight around my neck
As a badge of honor and an armor, “I carry it in my heart.”
The earrings without matches are
Made with beads of shame regret and memories, like the
Time we spent in a Hebrew village market
Shopping for overpriced rags
Because we only ever had
So much time together and it had to be just right.
You and I were just right.
I’m sorry it took up until now to figure it out.
I remember the only time your calloused
Hand ever struck my face after I screamed back at you,
“That was then, and this is—”
But I miss you, now. It’s too late, but I have
Finally found all the boxes of photographs and
Lost things to be sad about.
I can’t really say that I get you now.
But I do miss you, now.
I hope to your God that you are floating
“Easy lucky free,”
Free of me and all the bitter lonely
Earrings and broken things I left for you
To deal with all alone.
Happy day, happy empty summer rain
With that smell I can’t erase…
Happy Mother’s Day, mommy.
I miss the wrinkles on your face.