Poems of Motherhood

My Son At Twenty-One
For Daniel

My son says:
I hate you
with all my heart.

You won’t be invited to my wedding
in five or six years.
you won’t see my children, ever!
I disown you.

I was singing him a lullaby one night
He was barely four
He started to cry:
I’ll make a clay statue of you, Mama,
After you die.

And
Then sobbing:
No! Clay will break
I’ll make it out of iron.









Esther Kamkar, Palo Alto, California artist and poet. Poems, poetry, writing, published works - footer logo

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