Sunshine Lately

WHEN DID THEY STOP ASKING ABOUT YOU, MAMA?

As I became greater,
you became less.

Perhaps in this way,
all women are mothers:
defined only
by what we carry.

You carried me,
and I carry grief.
And as both become greater,
we become less.

I never asked to be here.
I wish you would have lived
with nothing in your belly
but lightning.