I didn’t want to raise
an unarmed saint
after seeing my mother
wear that role,
always waiting
for some relief
like an
unsheared sheep,
she walked her muddy
field alone until she
fell from the weight of
her own worsted wool,
unable to feed herself.
I was powerless then but
determined now.
I live to let my daughter
feel the shear within her
palm, to know she holds
the way to go from
worsted to best,
to walk way up,
upon the hill
where the
beloved walk.
Photo by Sasha Freemind on Unsplash
Susan Shea
Susan Shea is a retired school psychologist who was born in New York City, and now lives in a forest in Pennsylvania. She feels like she is coming alive again, able to return to writing poetry. Susan has been published in Plainsongs, Pudding, The Bluebird Word, and The Agape Review. Recently Susan has had poems accepted for Last Stanza Poetry Journal, The Bookends Review, Exstasis, Poetry Breakfast, and four anthologies by The Moonstone Arts Center:The Weight of Motherhood, by Wingless Dreamer: Darkness Within Me, by Pure Slush Books: Lifespan Series:Achievement, and by Poet’s Choice: Nostalgia.
