Try not
to appear envious
when I hear
of parents’ anniversaries
dinner at Mom’s,
how hard it is to buy something
for a mother
who has everything.

Their nonchalance
chokes my throat.

Mothers and daughters
laugh
everywhere I go.
My mother’s absence
a space that can never be filled.

Sometimes
I am the aching daughter
missing my mother

sometimes
the laughing mother
holding my daughter’s hand.

It’s not that I’m lazy.
Things in my home have not found
their natural places yet-
our home is an unnatural disaster.

"Fluff" was one of our daughter’s
first words.
At four
she feared the vacuum.

My apartment was tidy
until you moved in
bringing all your luggage.

Now I cannot keep up
with the cleaning
give up often
prefer to think of the
love
in
slovenly.