By: Wylie Strout

A stout woman with
Her aged shoulders
Broadly raised

Flicking sticky tentacles
here and there

Birthing tentacles
yes, here and there

Oh, Mother of mine

A tough old lady’s aspirations:
throbbing, growing, dreaming,
tugging, pulling, seizing

Seeking the forgetful from the front lines
here and there

A heart that will entrance you

Oh, city of mine

“Raise your back,” she says.

“Fight,” she says.

“Honor,” she says.

“Love,” she says.

“And know your Mother,” she says.

Flicking sticky tentacles
here and there.