My very first poem

This is a re-post from a note I made almost two years ago now. I thought it a good way to begin this new blog. Mom passed away almost a year ago now. So this takes on a new significance as I reflect on it again.

This (March, 2010) week I moved some of my Mom's things from her house in Nashville to my sister, Anita's, in Atlanta where my Mom is now staying. In her dresser drawers were lots of old letters and cards. I was fascinated to find a Mother's Day card that I had made for here when I was a kid, probably about 10 years old or so. It is made of pink construction paper folded into a card. I drew a redbird (my favorite) on the front, perched on a branch, with musical notes coming out of its beak. Inside, in my little kid handwriting, as fancy as I could make it, were these words:

Dear Mother,
I don't know how to put into words
All the things that you have done.
How you have loved and cared for me
And I'm proud to be your son.
What I feel, I cannot say,
But I wish you a Happy Mother's Day.

It made me laugh and cry, especially knowing that she has kept this little card for over 50 years, having moved about so many times during that time.