To Miss

There’s no wedding to miss the bouquet tossing of,

no child’s head to wet, to lay a gentle kiss and introduce yourself to,

no traditional life events that warrant you being there.

Your daughter is not opening her own business

buying a house for a family to grow in,

picking out lace and ivory with a rock on a finger.

None of these things are in the mind of me,

never really have been,

and so those events that bring material the maternal

will not be there for you to miss.

But the moments when I want to throw a smile at

share a tear with,

laugh that cackle with the first person I always think to do so with,

those softest of glows that smatter themselves

through a life ordinary,

these are that which you will not be there to cherish to

and that this bitten broken bracketed me

just wants you there regardless,

as I cannot regard them with you not here moma.

I just cannot.


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