Mother of Steel

I dodge my son, my only child
His rages uncontrolled.

This tight in me, the Nth degree
grown tired searching for the key
(his fate no fortune could forsee)
         a mother's soul was sold.

I live in fear, year after year
The brave in me has died.

The wrath of he, a guarantee
grown vicious in an anti-glee
(the opposite of being free)
         divinity defied.

I steel my spine and very self
The bend in me is gone.

The soft in me, a yielding tree
grown petrified with every plea
(a tempest born of savage sea)
         predestiny redrawn.



note ▼

Prompt: “Motherhood at times like this—most times—was about the steel in your spine, not the bend.”
Kristin Hannah, Firefly Lane