Literary Mama writing about the many faces of motherhood


Let us pray
For small boys who roll their taut bellies and make their mothers laugh.
For girls who squeeze air from their fathers' cheeks and giggle at the sound.
For the gardener who lived here first and staggered the blooms in the yard.

Let us pray
For ducks swimming in the front-yard puddle after the flood.
For expectant robins who press fresh moss into their nests.

Let us pray
For the old man who measures flour so his wife believes she can still bake.
For grown-up children who can't find their place
And for their babies who need them to try.

Let us pray
For the dying neighbor who sips water from a spoon
And for her friend who brings poetry and pie a bit too late.

Let us pray
For the young who believe this world is all good and for those who've learned it isn't.
For the flame inside that sustains us.
For slow-burning logs
And for mothers who toast marshmallows with their sons long after dark.

Kyle Potvin’s poetry has appeared in Measure, Tygerburning Literary Journal, The Mom Egg, JAMA (Journal of the American Medical Association), Blue Unicorn, The New York Times’ “Well” blog, among other publications, and in 2008, she was named a finalist for the Howard Nemerov Sonnet Award. Kyle is principal of a public relations firm and co-founder of The Prickly Pear Poetry Project: Processing the Cancer Experience Through Poetry. She lives with her husband and two sons (11 & 9) in New Hampshire.

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What a beautiful, affirming poem. Thank you.
Thanks for your feedback, Nancy.
This made me cry! It's beautiful Kyle. Miss you!!
Wow – this touched my heart…
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