A Prayer for my Mother

Sharon Kourous

Where she walks punching the ground with her cane,
may the earth lie without humps or hollows,
that her brittleness reach the backyard swing,
that her careful step, as each slow foot follows
the other, reach this simple destination;
that she may in the maple tree's shade
name the day's birds; that finches station
themselves nearby and sing for her, unafraid.
May I, tense behind the window curtain
not rush out to help her; may she arrive,
stubborn and solid wherever she's going;
may birds be there, instead of angels, singing;
may she leave from level ground, without my knowing;
her cane propped in a corner, unneeded for winging.
 
 

Sharon Kourous