Mothers

Mama, Come Back by Nellie Wong Mama, come back.

My Mother on an Evening in Late Summer by Mark Strand When the moon appears

Jugglers by Francisco Aragón She and I on a bench eating prawns

Kaddish, Part I by Allen Ginsberg Strange now to think of you, gone without corsets & eyes, while I walk on

The Player Queen by W. B. Yeats My mother dandled me and sang

To My Mother by Christina Rossetti To-day's your natal day

To My Mother by Robert Louis Stevenson You too, my mother, read my rhymes

To My Mother by Edgar Allan Poe Because I feel that, in the Heavens above

To My Mother Waiting on 10/01/54 by Teresa Carson That October might have begun

The Visit by Jason Shinder

Picking Up by Evelyn Duncan During the depression

My Mother Would Be a Falconress by Robert Duncan My mother would be a falconress,

The Routine Things Around the House by Stephen Dunn When Mother died

Exile by Alicia Suskin Ostriker The downward turning touch

My Mother's Funeral by Ira Sadoff The rabbi doesn't say she was sly and peevish

Mother Ann Tells Lucy What Gave Her Joy by Arra Lynn Ross A moment of understanding

Postpartum by Hiromi Itō Childbirth was not dying nor defecating

My Mother Was No White Dove by Reginald Shepherd no dove at all, coo-rooing through the dusk

Lucky by Tony Hoagland If you are lucky in this life,

Mother's Day by David Young I see her doing something simple, paying bills

She Leaves Me Again, Six Months Later by Collier Nogues The hillside was blocked

Untitled [A house just like his mother's] by Gregory Orr A house just like his mother's,

Disciplines [If there is prayer, there is a mother kneeling] by Dawn Lundy Martin If there is prayer, there is a mother kneeling

Parents by William Meredith What it must be like to be an angel

Chorus by Catherine Barnett So who mothers the mothers

Wedding Cake by Naomi Shihab Nye Once on a plane

Mother by Lola Ridge Your love was like moonlight

Mother by Herman de Coninck What you do with time

Mother o' Mine by Rudyard Kipling If I were hanged on the highest hill

[Sonnets are full of love, and this my tome] by Christina Rossetti Sonnets are full of love, and this my tome

Metamorphosis by James Richardson The week after you died, Mom,