You never taught me to fly
because on our drive way,
chin up, head back
feet firmly on the ground
we were there already.
You taught me to see with eyes closed.
It must’ve been then,
staring at the gentle, colorful explosion
of impact between evening & night.
You taught me dreams were in the daytime, too.
That night I wrote my first poem,
curled up beneath a baby grand
with a diary & crayon.
I’ll never forget the way your fingers,
brushed the keys and coaxed out a song.
You taught me music was a feeling, not just sound
More than a muse… a reason
and the most important part
…of why I am.
Happy Mother’s Day, Marmy!