A mother is what she needed
not a friend that played
jacks, marbles and jump rope
where she was left
to her own devices of
making mischief
with her brother
or watching a locomotive
barrel down steel tracks
to crush a penny
newly set
upon them
but her mother an only child
longed for siblings
for playmates
to fill
a yearning
so even as she needed
wanted a mother
oranges and apples
would not mix
yet her mother turned flour sacks
into underclothes and slips
for her sewn dresses
to lie upon
her mother cooked food
laden with the aromas
of love
pies trimmed in the lace
of gold brown crust
even when money
was a
luxury
she would surmise in life
that mothers do the best
with what life
gives them
© September 2018 Renee Espriu
Photo Taken From Public Domain Pictures and Created As Art

