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Mother This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine.

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Sweat drips down my back,
black shirt sticking to my skin.
My hair – long then – glued
to the fabric with the salt,
my palms bleed fluid onto
the handle of her shovel.
Lift the dirt. Drop it. Repeat.
I drop the garden tool,
and push the wheel barrel
down the hill in my backyard.
Push it up. Repeat.
One week and two days later,
small pebbles, a pond and
snapdragons lay where the
dirt once did. My mother stands
triumphant near the crab
apple tree. Smiling, she thanks me.

This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.




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YesThatsWhyTheyFly said...
Jul. 16, 2011 at 5:46 pm:
I love this its a great poem and it creates a great vision.
 
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