Poetry: Her beauty

by Lucinda Davis

A Mother's Beauty

This wrinkle on her forehead is for the times she worried about me coming home safe

This line by her eye is from squinting into the sunlight while watching me play

The teeth that are absent from her smile are the books I used in college

That scar on her hand is from cutting herself while making my dinner

The limp in her walk is the hours she spent on her feet in service to others

That gray in her hair is all the times I called her in tears

That paunch on her tummy is for the lives she brought into the world

But my favorite is the crease by her mouth from the time we laughed so hard we cried

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