Mama’s house

The house smelled like laughter,
Mostly hers-
A medium tone chuckle
That stretched on like a happy mist
That lingered in the room.
Her buoyant spirit
Was a steady recognizable atmosphere
That made every house we lived in
Feel like home.
Saturday mornings
We woke up to Mama praying;
Loudly and intensely
Somehow instilling both
The fear of God
And a deep sense of safety
Before saying amen.
She governed the house
Even from her bed
On the mornings she’d sleep in,
Keeping tabs on all her offspring
Making sure we had all we needed.
Mama’s house
Is where I first learned
How to be a human
Living with other humans
And what its like
To be in the cross-hairs
Of deep love.

Happy birthday Mama.


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