Honey, when winter comes
your mom will cry a lot.
Because the earth is frozen and dead,
and her body hurts.
She will sleep longer
and grow spindly indoor vegetables.
But sweetie, in the spring
your mom will sing in the kitchen.
She'll take you camping when its too cold,
and kayaking in the rain.
She'll refer to everything as a beautiful lady
and rhyme your name with plants.
Because the earth is pulsing blood again
your mom will dance on the furniture with you.
She'll take you on walks to feel moss
and tree heartbeats.
And baby, in the summer
your mom will yell a lot.
Because its too hot
and she wants to build a tree house for you.
But the yard always needs mowed
and her hands are always swollen.
And the time just passes too fast
that she'll rush like a flooded river.
Then darling in the fall
she'll tell story after story after story
about growing up on dusty trails
and swimming in thunderstorms.
Then when she's quiet
she'll grow too quiet.
She'll rake the leaves though we don't rake.
She'll run her hand along old furniture.
She'll press leaves and say
you're just like so-and-so
when they were small like you.
She'll smile out the window on car rides.
She'll cry at funny movies.
Its important to be patient,
She's a moon with many phases.