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Mother's Hands

 

 

 

 

Always smelled of

pine scented cleaner, diluted with

well hidden salty tears, produced

 

by the agonizingly reserved reality

of unfulfilled dreams. She

humbly accepted her fate.

 

I often focused on them, her hands

that disciplined us

with love, that always

 

made the bread and daily meals

stretch with frugal acuity that managed

to last longer than

 

my father’s frequent and

truant domestic absences, she was

amazing like that.

 

 

 

 

 

Author notes

Prompt #1- mother's hands, 15 lines.

A contest entry

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Comments

1 - 15 of 15
  • I loved this poem from the first reading. Congratulations on the Gold dear





  • wow wht a way to describe a person by describing their hands. a very heartfelt and personal tribute and it was beautiful I hope you do well in the contest
    Good luck
  • and, I almost forgot

  • what an amazing woman....and what an amazing tribute to her...just talking about her hands...who else could do that but you?

  • BellaD
    July 23
    Edit | Reply
    I love this. Simply beautiful. Thank you for your entry.
  • This is beautiful Michael. Your Mother must have been an amazing woman and I wish I could have met her. I think I would have liked to sit awhile and talk with her.

    Best wishes in the contest.

    Love Margaret

  • Beautiful, heart-breaking... yet inspiring.
    You are such an amazing poet, Michael. You are able to make your reader really feel, to really empathize and ache with you.
    The imagery was absolutely perfect. Nothing was overdone, and no important details were left out.
    I believe this is definitely gold material.
    Brilliant write!

  • Mothers tend to do what is necessary no matter what the circumstances. Well done to you. Juls


  • Lady in Love
    July 15

    Edit | Reply
    Hard to be a mother, when abuse is abound. Strange things one remembers about our parents. Our mother, used to always smell like bleach. Always disenfecting everything, trying to rid herself of the memory of our father, I believe.

    Nice poem.
    Tish


  • malmadre gold member
    July 15

    Edit | Reply
    Once...long ago, my father went to the store to get a loaf of bread and was gone for three days, he was angry to find that the neighbors had given us groceries while he was gone. He was like that with "frequent and truant absences" Bless the mothers that find a better way.


  • ardentMarch gold member
    July 15
    Edit | Reply


  • Amera gold member
    July 15

    Edit | Reply
    I love this my friend! You painted a vivid picture of loving hands. I think we learn so much by realizing the value of another's hands. This is original and beautiful.

    Love,
    Amera♥


  • Nature Song silver member
    July 15

    Edit | Reply
    Domestic violence is never easy! I know the feeling all too well. But to focus on your mothers hands to remember details such as this is wonderful! ~Sie

  • Aww 'hidden salty tears'

    She sounds like a wonderful woman hun.. your love and respect for her shines in this write!

    Another peek into your life, heart and soul... always an honour!

1 - 15 of 15