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


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