I am my mothers daughter.
I have a sense of ‘ought to’:
Send timely replies to invitations
Thanks people promptly for vacations
And presents, or letters – being polite
Costs nothing, and to write
A card is the work of but a moment.
‘Send them one of your specials’,
She would say, and I would
Because I wanted to and could.
A chosen card, careful words
To comfort, make laugh, give news
I’d use all thoughts and crafts
And feel fulfilled in doing so.
I am my mother’s daughter.
I celebrate this, while I miss her.
