In My Mother’s Arms

In my mother’s arms

I am safe

She holds me

We look at things

 

“Bird,” I say

But she is already opening the door

And we bathe in the summer sun

 

Hot pavement

Green grass

A bus 

Even the breeze is hot

 

In my mother’s arms

I feel my feathers growing

My shoulders are strong

But not always

 

Once, when we were shopping

I let go of her skirt

And ended up holding the wrong one

Not my mother

 

She found me

And held me tight

For a long time