A Mother’s Work Is Never Done
How like the devoted mother bird I am.
Scouring creation for nourishment,
plus choice bits of advice,
tasty tidbits of wisdom,
little seeds for thought…
Which I pre-digest
even as I wing my way
back to the nest,
then feed into
the eager, waiting
beak of my baby bird.
How like the devoted mother bird
I am not.
Feathers gray, wings weary,
I am still gathering
choice bits of advice,
tasty tidbits of wisdom,
and little seeds for thought.
But my great big baby bird
with a beard
and his own nest
just thinks I’m trying
to throw up in his mouth.
Ann Keiffer
December, 2010
Photo Credit: Flickr Creative Commons License M E D A
