In Memoriam of My Mother

Peonies of pink are a childhood foundation.

An angel who is not fueled by regulation

Treats and trinkets you lavished upon your every growing tribe

Remembering infinitesimal dates of others used to describe

Into generations your memory will take hold of

Children were the propeller of your love

I miss you daily while your photograph I gaze

Absence of you is my minotaur’s maze