Happy Mother’s Day, everybody! (But especially the mommies! (And most especially, my mommies: Mom and Mama Pihl!))
In honor of my mom, (the one who gave birth to me, not the one whose son I married) the world-champion cross-stitcher*, I went to Joann Fabrics and picked up two cross-stitching kits! I’ve decided to try my hand at it because it seems like a cool thing to be able to do! (Plus, it’ll fit in my purse much better than my sewing machine.)
Here’s the one I’m going to start with:
I thought it was clever. =P
I also bought a fun, patterned, gauzy fabric out of the remnants bin while I was there which I think I want to make a flowy vest out of. We’ll see. =)
Anyway, while I tear open this cross-stitch business, here’s a poem I wrote. Happy Mother’s Day, moms!
traveling, like daughters do
when i sing along to the radio with breath
pulled from the bottom of my lungs:
my mouth grows wide, my lips rose-pink,
my forehead becomes smooth above curved eyebrows
i have never plucked.
it happens at my desk,
when the soft ovals of my nails tap out messages
that crinkle the nubs of knuckles like yours:
my rings jingle around slender, pianist fingers
that don’t belong to me,
my skin becomes speckled-pale like yours.
it happens in the steamy morning mirror,
when i apply concealer
in long upward strokes
over the lavender half-moons beneath my eyes:
cheekbones like yours appear on the sides of my snub nose,
my freckles are traded for soft, peach-fuzz skin.
i become you
more and more everyday.
i become a traveler:
slipping out of me
and stepping into you.