Literary Mama writing about the many faces of motherhood
First Memory

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It must have been spring.
There's the smell of wet earth,
the absence of cold. I lift my head
and above me, suddenly,

are shards of light, sharp green leaves
—a willow maybe—and the sun
in its branches, pressing through,
breaking into pieces. My mother

is close by—I am aware of her hair,
her quick hands—but far enough away
that I feel held by something else
—the air, the willow branches,

the fingers of the sun.


Kim June Johnson creates with the medium of music and words and performs live shows that combine songs, poems and stories. Her poems have appeared in Room, Damselfly Press, OK Magpie, and previously in Literary Mama.


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Lovely poem Kim June, one of your great strengths is your motherhood, and of course your daughterhood.
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