Poems & Essays

18 Jan

Ode to Mothers

General/Column No Response

She glanced at her hands yesterday
All wrinkled and crooked
Just like old hands
But she was still young.
Where did the beauty go?
She pondered.
Why do they look so old?
He asked.
“They washed your dirt and dirty clothes
Cleaned your mess when you littered
Pressed your legs to rid of pain
Oiled your hair
Ironed your clothes
Cooked your food
And spoon fed you
Rocked you all night singing rhymes
Tied your laces umpteen times.
They toiled like a labor does
So what if I have wrinkled hands?
For I am a mother it’s meant to be
And this should not bother me.”
She thought to herself
And smiled at him.


Nausheen Mujeeb is a poet, early years teacher and a reiki healer. Her work has appeared in Boston Literary Magazine.

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