Mother, in your life
did we honor your efforts?
Not nearly enough.
Only when you left
could we see your worth, your love
so ingrained was it.
Do we mark our breaths
or the beating of our hearts?
You were everything.
We give you this day
however insufficient
filled with all our love.
I miss you, Mom.
A trip through life with fingers crossed and eternal optimism.
Doing the best I can with what I have
kind of sad, but not so bad with cheese. cheese not provided.
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MARK PETRUSKA | WRITER
Short essays about novels and other fictional works
By Ian Garrabrant
Home of Micropoetry, Literature, art and philosophy.
Just a fiction writer, trying to reach the world.
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Praying for Eyebrowz 
Simply and touchingly said, and it’s unfortunately often true…
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What a touching poem. I think it’s very common for mothers to be taken for granted somewhat and their efforts not to be fully recognized at the time. I’ve certainly been guilty of that on occasion.
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My mom and I had an interesting relationship. But I miss her every day.
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I know that missing someone is painful, but I guess it means they were deeply loved.
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Me too. By the time I knew what I wanted to say, it was too late. Beautiful poem. (K)
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Exactly.
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