Story Maker

Story Maker

My mother,
She is all knowing.
I ask her a question,
She takes the long way around,
And gives me a story.

Tales of Friday night football games
And human pyramids with pom poms.
How she skipped school with friends
To chow down on tacos;
Laughing and cracking stupid jokes.

Tales of the “good old days”,
When she soaked up the
Sunny sunrays of a California beach.
Went cruising in convertibles with girlfriends;
Meeting my dad.

Tales of me.
Of when I was wrapped up in her arms.
Quiet and small I was, content with myself.
Daddy’s little girl, always giggling.
Her sweet angel.

My mother,
She has seen much.
I ask her a question,
She takes the long way around,
And gives me her life.