My Mom

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Her crooked smile
is just like mine
That silly way she puts her hands on her hips
is the same silly way that I have
Those raised eyebrows she’s giving me
are the same ones I give right back to her
That laugh
is unlike any but my own
Her tears
are what make my own fall
Her far off gaze when thinking about life in itself
is so similar to mine that you can’t tell them apart
The proud smile on her face
as she reads this poem
And as tears well up in her eyes
is exactly what happened to me
as I thought of the wonderful mother I love





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